


This is What Happens When You Save the World on International Television

by snack_size



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Big Bang, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Multiple Pov, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snack_size/pseuds/snack_size
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Betty Ross turned up after watching the Battle for New York, the Avengers figured it was the perfect coda to their fight. They didn't realize that watching an old lover battle aliens on international television compels people to check and make sure they're OK - but then Peggy Carter and her grand-daughter and Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster arrived as well. Everyone attempts to deal with a Tower at emotional capacity and figures out how to move forward now that they've actually saved the world. </p><p>Features multiple points of view, including both Avengers and Peggy, Betty, Jane, Darcy and Pepper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few things, to start - this was written for the [Marvel Bang,](http://marvel-bang.livejournal.com/) and I have to thank the mods for being so fantastic and accommodating and overall just running the thing without a hitch.
> 
> First, I know about the character of Sharon Carter, but, being unfamiliar with comics canon, decided it was best to invent an OC as Peggy's granddaughter rather than just work off of the Wikipedia page.
> 
> Overall, I wanted to focus on the reactions of the various women in the MCU - each character got a love interest in their own movie, yet, aside from Pepper, they were all either unmentioned or casually tossed aside in order to move the plot forward. I especially wanted to reunite Peggy with Steve, since I really loved their relationship in Captain America and found the ending to be an unexpected punch to the gut. Things sort of evolved from there, and, unintentionally at first, I wrote some Steve/Thor, though they are my second favorite pairing, so it makes sense that I went there. 
> 
> I have to thank purple_spock (at live journal) for being a fantastic beta and slogging through all of this, and heartequals for her [wonderful fan mix.](http://thesavvygambols.livejournal.com/3472.html)

**Peggy**

“I told you, Anne! Captain America is punching aliens-”

“No, no, Dolores. He punched Hitler. I saw it, actually, my daddy took me and-”

“It’s on the television, Anne - he is fighting aliens in Manhattan.”

“Anne, you know she has dementia, right?” 

“What?”

“I used to think about doing such naughty things to him when I was younger...the ass on that boy!” 

Peggy looked up from her crossword, finally processing what the other women in the Rec Room were saying. “Where are they fighting aliens?” she asked, glancing over at the television - if she hadn’t seen the CNN logo in the bottom of the frame, she would have thought it was one of those _Transformers_ movies. 

“New York!” Anne said, turning to beam at Peggy.

“I said that already,” Dolores protested.

Peggy set her pen down. She had stopped needing to use a pencil long ago, even for the _Times_ crossword - and, unlike many of the other residents of Palm Terrace at Falling Waters, the need had not resurfaced. Given her choice of occupation, she never would have thought that she would live to be ninety-six years old, fully cognizant, stuck in a body that was rapidly failing her.

“That one has a nice ass too,” said Gloria.

Peggy took her reading glasses off and narrowed her eyes at the Captain on the screen. He wasn’t hers, of course, and she wondered what poor son of bitch they’d found to put in the red, white and blue suit - and, more importantly, if they had managed to recreate the serum. She was about to go back to 36 down when Captain America flung his shield in the direction of one of the aliens as it careened towards him on its heliscooter. The shield knocked the alien right off and then flew back to the Captain, who turned towards the camera to assess another threat. 

Peggy felt her throat tighten, because even with the cowl - she’d been staring at that jawline for the past seventy years. “Steve,” she said, voice quiet - but how? 

“Yeah, you get him!” Dolores said, as Captain America - Steve, her Steve - turned and punched another alien.

“That young lady has to be awful confident, wandering around in something so tight.” Gloria said.

“I like the big green one,” Anne said. “He has a nice bottom too.” 

Peggy picked up her crossword and novel, set them on the ledge of her walker, and made for her room. She found herself often reflecting about how awful it was to be old, but she had never thought that she would be thinking about how her immobility really made running to a bathroom and slamming the door for a good, emotional cry rather ineffective.

Even though she was lacking a dramatic run-off, she did allow herself the good, emotional cry, just like the ones she had to tell herself to stop having seventy years ago. It didn’t last as long as she remembered, perhaps because she was also overcome with the desire to develop a plan of action, where before there was nothing she could do. She splashed some cold water on her face and lingered, for a moment, over the wrinkles and white hair. She gave herself a rueful smile, then shuffled back into her room and turned on her television. 

Peggy held her breath when Howard’s brilliant, wayward son flew the nuclear missile into the portal’s void. She remembered Tony from when he had been very young - he used to tease her oldest daughter at the infrequent picnics they had together, and there was, of course, a few days when Howard had to bring a young Tony with him to SHIELD. The boy had latched on to her, for some reason, and they had spent the afternoons using office supplies to create a variety of monsters and robots, and then battled them on her carpeted floor, had raided the cafeteria for candy bars and cake...the sorts of things she should have been doing with her own girls, really.

There was another regret there, of course - when she read articles about Tony before he had adopted his mechanized alter ego she realized that she should have kept in better contact with the boy. It was always clear that neither Howard nor Maria were cut out to be parents. But, then again, who was Peggy to critique them?

“And, yes! It appears Iron Man - Tony Stark - is alive! I repeat, Tony Stark is alive!” the announcer said, and Peggy smiled. 

She waited a few moments for Anderson Cooper to come on and confirm that, while much of Midtown Manhattan had been destroyed, the alien invasion was contained - “By a group of people who, we are being told, are calling themselves the Avengers.” 

_Clever,_ Peggy thought, and it was a relief to see there was still someone clever enough at SHIELD to come up with a catchy moniker.

Content that Earth was safe, for the time being, Peggy picked up her phone.

“Grandmum!” Juliana said. “Are you seeing what’s going on in Manhattan?”

“Mmm, I was watching for a moment,” Peggy said. “Look, I need you to come and break me out.” 

“Really? I mean, sure, but - I don’t need to break you out. I can come and sign you out any time, remember, like we went to the beach last week?” Juliana said.

“I need to go to New York,” Peggy said. 

“The New York that was just invaded by chitanuous aliens and space whales?” Juliana asked. Peggy smiled - her granddaughter had a way with words. 

“Are you in front of your computer?” she asked, knowing the answer. Juliana was rarely without her Mac or her iPhone. When she answered in the affirmative, Peggy said, “Good, then I want you to Google _Captain America pocket watch_.” Peggy also knew what would result from the inquiry because she had searched for it herself.

“Fuck! I mean, Grandmum - holy shit! That’s you!” 

“Indeed,” Peggy said. “Now, I’ve never told your mum about this - but, before I met your grandfather-”

“ But...it can’t be the same one, unless-”

“It is,” Peggy said. “He crashed into the Arctic to save New York-” _There had to be irony there,_ Peggy thought, “-and has apparently been found and successfully thawed.”

“So you and-”

“Yes, precisely, I had a torrid love affair with Captain America. Well, Captain Steve Rogers.” Torrid was not exactly the right word - they had never gotten to that point, really, and it was her life’s biggest regret. But she knew that the lie would inspire her granddaughter. Juliana, like her grandmother, had a deep practical streak and sometimes it took some carefully chosen rhetoric to compel her to do something...stupid. “And I’m damn well going to see him before-”

“Yes, of course, and don’t say that,” Juliana replied. Peggy rolled her eyes - she wasn’t in danger of dying anytime too soon, though most of her relatives took a different view than she did. The doctor’s latest estimate was six months. Peggy though, having lived this long and through everything she had, had made peace with her mortality some time ago. “I suppose, with everything, we should probably drive, rather than fly.”

“I would think,” Peggy replied. “I will pack some snacks.”

“And your tea,” Juliana said. “I am not going to drive you all the way to New York and have to listen to you bitch about the inferior tea everyone is trying to serve you.” Peggy smiled.

“Noted,” she replied. 

“I should get there in forty-five minutes, unless people are having epic freak-outs and running to the store to get bottled water and guns,” Juliana said. 

“Speaking of-” 

“You don’t need to remind me,” Juliana replied, and Peggy smiled again - her granddaughter was one of her only relations that seemed to understand her. “I’ll see you soon.”

Peggy had known better than to expect that her daughters would be like her, but she had hoped. Perhaps they might have been, if they had faced actual adversity rather than some of the most prosperous times in American history. She and Henry had certainly prospered, and the girls had never wanted for anything.

Except for their mother. That had been made clear to her to her by all of shocked neighborhood home makers and most of her co-workers. When Rosalyn, the oldest, was ten she had shouted, “No one else has a mum who works,” Peggy had wanted to smile at her and ask why it had taken her so long to raise that objection. 

Instead, she said, “Someday, I might be able to tell you why I’ve made that choice.” 

“Might?” Rosalyn had said, appalled. 

“You always say that!” Charlotte, the youngest, added.

“If it becomes declassified,” Peggy replied - her mother had never spoken to her about anything of importance as a child, and Peggy thought it had done wonders for her, so she had steadfastly applied the policy to her own girls.

“Oh, come on!” Rosalyn had said, and she took Charlotte’s hand and walked out of the room. 

Would it have been different, if they had been Steve’s? She’d played that game too many times, even though she wasn’t entirely clear on the rules. He would have made an excellent father, though Henry had been as well. The difference would have been purely in her. She hadn’t loved Henry when she married him, but she had liked him, and he understood and stood by his proposal after she explained. They had grown into a comfortable relationship - good sex, things in common, laughter, a love of traveling, the joy and enjoyment they got from the girls. She knew there were plenty of women who had much worse complaints about their husbands and their lives - their dreary battles against the fruit that refused to float in the gelatin, the husbands who expected more than just a meal and a newspaper after work, regardless; women who might very well have been Mick Jagger’s muses for _Mother’s Little Helper._ Still.

By the time she thought the girls were old enough for her to explain what had happened, she knew it was too late. How to even conceptualize it? _I talked to him until the moment he died. He was the best man I ever knew._ It would only serve to make them feel more illegitimate. Instead, she said, _I lost someone in the war._

Besides, by then they were both in therapy. Peggy had been relieved to hear that both their therapists had decided that her cold, aloof nature was the result of her Englishness. That she could work with - that was something that could, and had, been overcome once the girls were adults. 

“Grandmum,” Juliana said, lifting the overnight bag that Peggy had packed, “I know mum said you lost someone in the war - but - I mean, how did you even meet him?” 

“I was in the service as well,” Peggy said, carefully. “I worked on the project that made him...before, he was actually quite small. Quite adorable, really, and you wouldn’t believe it, seeing-” 

“You worked on a top secret government project - oh, shit, this all makes so much sense,” Juliana said. “You totally were a spy. I bet Connor $20, like, four years ago that you were.” Peggy smiled at this - just as Juliana was the smartest of her grandchildren, Connor was the least observant, the poorest student of human nature. Peggy had been relieved to find he was going into accounting. “Shit. Captain America.” She held the car door for Peggy.

“Steve,” Peggy said, suddenly choking up - getting to this point and deciding how to execute the rest had conveniently taken up most of her thought processes. _Goodness, Margaret, you are English,_ she thought. _Stiff upper lip. Keep calm and carry on._ “I’m sorry, this must be-”

“No, it’s...well, it’s just weird, you know, watching TV and thinking some guy has a great body and then finding out your grandmum-”

“I know, dear,” Peggy said, as they pulled away from the nursing home - no, _Assisted Living Community,_ as Charlotte and her husband, Adam, always insisted on calling it. They had been the ones to push for it, insisting that, with Peggy’s condition - they couldn’t even say _cancer_ \- it would be better for her to have doctors and nurses nearby. Peggy had relented only when she found out that they provided all three meals and snacks, as she was tired of cooking for herself. “You didn’t tell your mother about this, did you?”

“No,” Juliana said. “Are you kidding? I told her that, with the world almost ending, or whatever, I really needed to go and see Wesley.” 

“You really need to tell your mother-” Peggy began. Juliana shook her head.

“Mom was the one who started it, I never said anything,” Juliana replied. “And I’ve never said he was my boyfriend, so, if she wants to keep being deluded...” Peggy sighed. She understood Juliana’s recalcitrance to come out to her mother. Rosalyn had never had conservative social views until she got married. Peggy was still a little astounded at how casually she said things - when Rosalyn and Ted had come over last week for dinner Rosalyn had made some comment about lick-a-lot-a-pusses that Peggy had rolled her eyes at. 

“Something to deal with when we get back,” Peggy replied. She reached into her purse and was pleased to see that there were still some cigarettes left in the pack. “Don’t you start on me,” she said as she lit the cigarette. “I am ninety-seven years old. Do you know, two weeks ago, the doctor told me I should think about limiting my ice cream intake?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Juliana said. “I do what I want!” 

* * * 

**Jane**

Jane shook her head at the cellphone, irritated - it had been steadily beeping at her for the last five minutes. She had data to analyze, even though she’d just arrived yesterday and she had only unpacked a clean pair of underwear- “Jane!” Klaus Espeland stuck his head in the door to her lab. “You must see this! Aliens are attacking Manhattan.”

“Funny,” she replied. Many of the Scandinavians she had met had made it a point to tell her that they hoped that their sense of humor was not offensive to her, as it was much different than an American’s. She had yet to see evidence of this. 

Klaus was still standing in her door, so she turned - he looked a bit distraught, and, unlike most people, Jane knew that he was saying was possible. “Real aliens?” she asked.

“Yes! Monstrous bug-like things,” he said, waving his hand slightly. “They are coming through some sort of portal.”

“Shit,” Jane said, and reached for her phone. She knocked a book over in the process and ignored it. 

_Yo,_ the first text message from Darcy read, _Guess whose God of Thunder (and abdominal muscles) is zapping some space bugs with his lightening powers?_

“Shit, indeed,” Klaus said. Jane followed him down the hall, scrolling to see if Darcy had sent her any other substantive text messages. All of them, it seemed, were demanding to know why she was refusing to respond and then asking if cell phone reception was really bad in Tromso and, if so, Darcy was sorry. Jane had to smile.

Klaus had a television in his office, and Jane sat in an abused looking chair near his desk and watched the scene in fascination. “I was surprised to see anyone else here so late,” Klaus said. 

“Oh,” Jane said. “Jet lag.” She felt strange, having a perfectly normal conversation while Manhattan was obliterated right in front of her eyes. _I am not really sure how to respond to all of this,_ she typed back to Darcy. “Is that Iron Man?”

“Yes, the reporters believe so,” said Klaus. “And he has many friends!” 

_Dude!_ Darcy wrote back. _Only one way. Provided we don’t all die._

 _It looks about 50/50 right now,_ Jane replied.

 _You get to New York! And you tap that ass!_ Jane shook her head - she had been surprised to find, when Darcy had gone back to finish her last semester, that she missed the intern. 

_From Norway? Tromso? Do you know how hard it was to get here, what if he leaves before..?_

_Unacceptable,_ Darcy texted back. _How long did I work with you to reestablish that rainbow connection?_

 _Haha._ Jane wrote back, and then turned her attention to the television - she didn’t know what to do. Manhattan was being demolished right in front of her by...things, and there was Thor in his battle gear, swinging his massive hammer and flinging the creatures off of their scooters and giant worm slug with abandon. _I can’t just leave. I just got here._

_TRUE LOVE <3 <3 <3_

_You can’t ignore this, Jane Foster._ Darcy added in a second message, and Jane knew this, but there was an indignant part of her that thought, _watch me._

“And it appears, now, that the man in the red cape-” the newscaster said, and Jane wrinkled her nose at the English. It made her forget, for a moment, that she was in Norway. 

“We have aatellite TV,” Klaus said. “I thought - for you, maybe the New York broadcast-” 

“Thanks,” Jane replied. Thor looked - not older, she didn’t really think that he aged given how old he had said he was and how he had only just been offered rule over Asgard during the Odinsleep. But he looked tired, weary, and forlorn. 

She had known, when he hadn’t returned, that something had gone very wrong. She had run so many scenarios through her head that they had started to bleed together - the Bifrost had obviously been broken, because the link in the sky was gone.

“You know someone in New York?” Klaus asked.

“Yes,” Jane replied, watching as Thor held Mjolnir - mew mew, she thought, with some affection - and whacked an alien in the face with it. She looked back down at her phone, and then went back to the television, where the camera was presenting a shaky view of Ironman flying around the buildings of Midtown, the space slugs in hot pursuit.

Her phone beeped at her. _Damn it, Jane! Get on a damn plane. Srsly. I listened to you for MONTHS..._

 _It’s not like I can just get from Tromso to New York..._ Jane responded, and she really hadn’t intended for Darcy to interpret it the way that she did - but she could say that about a lot of things when it came to Darcy.

 _Well, I’ll go. Let him know you’re coming,_ Darcy replied. 

Jane considered this, frowned, looked back at the television, and sighed. _Wait!_ she responded.

 _Too late, booked a flight. Knew you would waver. #bwahahaha_ came back. 

Jane inhaled, then exhaled, not entirely sure how to react - because she wasn’t sure why she was hesitating. Darcy was right about everything. She had spent the past several months pining like a fourteen year-old and working herself so hard she had circles under her eyes that might as well be black holes. What, exactly, was she afraid of? 

_You’ll thank me later,_ Darcy added.

“Do you know the easiest way to get out of here?” Jane said, turning to Klaus.

“They are an important someone, then,” he replied, and Jane felt herself blushing.

* * * *

**Betty**

Betty Ross sighed and looked at the results from the DNA electrophoresis she had just run. Either one of her lab assistants had fucked up, or she had discovered an anomaly that contradicted the expected results of the experiment. She hoped for the former, she’d invested months in this. 

She rubbed at her temples and reached for her coffee mug - predictably empty. Sighing again, she grabbed the mug and walked towards the staff common area. She was surprised to see several professors actively watching the television, which was never on except for things like Presidential Debates or _Community_ episodes. 

“Betty, have you seen this?” Vandermeer asked, and he pointed at the television. “New York is under attack - they’re saying it’s aliens!”

“What?” she said, and almost pushed the shorter physics professor out of the way to get a good look at the television. The camera work was shaky, but what appeared to be giant space slugs were wafting through the air around Midtown Manhattan while chitanuous, insect-like creatures flew off of them and used grappling hooks to land onto the nearest building. Others, it appeared, had hovercrafts, and for a moment she was disappointed that her colleagues would fall for what was clearly another _War of the Worlds_ level prank.

“Iron Man is there,” said Czerwinski, the chemistry professor. “And Captain America! They’re just not showing them, for some reason!” 

That was on the side of reality, and Betty found herself watching, wide-eyed, like the rest of them as Iron Man zoomed across the screen and then the camera cut to aliens flowing out of a portal that had been opened above Stark Tower. The faculty expressed a combination of disbelief and rapidly articulated theory. 

“Can you believe this?” Vandermeer asked her, and there was a part of her that wanted to join in and say, _absofuckinglutely not!_ Instead, she shook her head and pursed her lips. She had yet to figure out how to solve the difference in body mass between Bruce and the Hulk - but aliens? Iron Man? Less improbable, as far as she was concerned.

“We have some new footage coming in,” one of the newscasters said as he huddled in the entrance to a subway station. “In addition to Iron Man, Captain America, and the man with the hammer and cape, it appears that the Hulk is fighting alongside-”

Betty involuntarily fell backwards, and after taking a moment to catch her breath, was relieved to find she was in the clutches of the break room’s ratty couch. Normally, she made a point to never sit on it, since she didn’t know what happened on it. 

And there he was - big, green, almost exactly as she remembered. She clutched her coffee cup so hard she felt like she might break it. _So lifelike!_ she thought, and tasted bile in the back of her throat.

She knew the roar, coming from the screen - in real life it would be deafening. He tossed the aliens around like they were toys. 

“I repeat!” the reporter said, “The Hulk is fighting alongside Iron Man, Captain America, and two others whose names are currently unknown-” 

“God, remember when he tried to destroy Harlem-” someone said.

“Oh, fuck off!” she replied, then realized from their expressions that she had said it loud enough for her colleagues to hear. She shook her head and looked down, figuring they would assume she was sharing a common sentiment about the Hulk. The Monster. _What did they think he was doing in Harlem with the Abomination? Wrestling?_

Still, she couldn’t help but glance around, nervous. None of her colleagues at MIT knew her past; her father had made sure all her involvement in the project was deleted from everything but the most top secret records. MIT had been a fresh start, new life...and she still couldn’t help but feel like she needed to look over her shoulder. 

“Do you know someone in New York, right now?” Tim Hagan, one of the chemists, asked. He’d been trying to get her to go to dinner, or coffee, or anything since she had arrived on campus at the beginning of the semester.

“Yes,” she said. He gave her his most sensitive face, nodding, and she flicked her eyes across the rest of her colleagues. They all seemed to be silently urging Hagan on.

“I’m sure-” he began.

“Not right now, Tim,” she replied, and turned her attention to the television screen.

She knew she should be paying attention - everyone knew, from the movies, what happened with alien invasions - but her thoughts kept leaping around through time. Bruce was the constant. She remembered him when they first met in the hallways at Culver when she had been freshly hired after getting her phD at Stanford. She had been confidant that, whenever it happened, she would blow her first interaction with the famous Dr. Banner. She had been charmed when he was just as fumbly, removing his glasses and twisting his hands. Before she could linger there too long, there was the accident, everything after, him coming back...

Who had made him fight this fight? She doubted, after Harlem, that he would have jumped into something like this willingly. Had they hurt him? Threatened him? 

Betty was pulled back to the television when a female reporter said, “It appears a nuclear missile has been launched at the island of Manhattan-”

“Dear gods,” someone said, and her mouth open and became dry. _He’s indestructible,_ Bruce had argued. _I know!_ She had met his eyes, and there was no mistaking what he meant by that. But he didn’t have access to nuclear explosions. 

Tim reached for her hand, and Betty took it. She didn’t want to have to fight him, just then. 

“Who would even think-”

“The threat has to be contained-”

“Are you going to bicker while this happens?” she demanded, turning to look around the room. They all looked like they’d been chastised by their mothers.

“And Iron Man, Tony Stark, has grabbed hold of the nuke-” The newscaster began, and the room grew quiet as she contained narrating. Everyone leaned closer towards the small television, and Betty knew instantly where he was headed with it. She had never met the man but she still held her breath as flew into the portal.

The room exhaled when he tumbled out, and it only took a moment for all of them to realize that Iron Man was falling. “Oh, no,” someone said, and Betty found that Tim had tightened his grip on her hand. 

The station switched shots to a camera feed that was further away, and more blurred, presumably to provide Tony Stark some dignity in death. It took a moment for her to process what the green blur was - but it was Hulk, catching Stark, clutching him tight, and sliding down the building edifice. 

“Even if he didn’t land, there’s no guarantee he survived the vacuum of outer space.”

“Not to mention, that _thing_ could have crushed him-”

“Our first contact with an alien race, and we nuked them.” The last was Tim, and Betty just nodded, absently, as the discussion swirled around her. “Betty?” he said, voice softer. 

“He’s sitting up!” said the newscaster, and the footage switched again to an even grainier video, likely from a cell phone camera. “Tony Stark is alive! Iron Man is alive, all thanks to...the Hulk!” 

Betty sat back against the couch and felt a smile creep across her lips. Tim’s hand withdrew, alerting her to the fact that the smile must have been frightening, perhaps corpse-like. There had been times, immediately after Harlem, when she had thought she might be dead inside. She could feel her viscera rotting, putrefying, and knew it would be only a matter of time before it began to show on the outside. Before it tumbled out of her mouth. 

She quit seeing her therapist when he suggested she had Cotard’s syndrome. In retrospect, not her best idea. Over the coming weeks Elliot probably would have alerted her that some of her behavior might be seen by others as problematic. If she hadn’t been so intellectually snobbish she might have saved herself a two month vacation in New Mexico’s loveliest private mental hospital. _Thanks, Daddy!_ And, of course, some things happened for a reason. It was certainly a lot easier to get a prescription for Ativan when you could prove you’d been institutionalized in the past. 

“Betty, are you alright?” Tim asked. “Do you want - I can call someone, if you want?” 

“Betty, you know someone in New York?” Vandermeer asked. 

She nodded and pulled herself out of the couch. She knew if she didn’t act soon they would all be around her clucking about how difficult this must all be for her. “I’ll call from my office, thank you, Tim,” she said. 

“He was riding on top of that thing, that worm!”an eye witness said on the television- _and they’d certainly cut to this quickly,_ Betty thought. “He was punching and roaring and he kept them from flying into our building! The Hulk is a hero.”

She cursed herself when she was halfway down the hall. She had forgotten to get her coffee.

* * *

Betty didn’t know much about the Hulk, though it wasn’t like anyone did. When she had attempted to get Bruce to talk about what it was like to share his brain and body, he had looked away, ashamed. As though it was all his fault, as though she hadn’t been there, goaded on by her father and promises of greatness. As though she didn’t know how it had happened.

She did know, however, that Hulk had recognized her and had known to not attack her. And now he had saved New York for a second time - remarkably, by playing well with others. And now she knew that Hulk had also saved Tony Stark’s life.

You didn’t need to be a genius to extrapolate from there. Hulk knew Stark, and Hulk had to like Stark - so Bruce knew and liked Stark as well. It might not be perfect conjecture, but it was there, and all it did was raise more questions. What was someone like Tony Stark doing with the types of people who wanted to use Hulk as a weapon? Did he Bruce like the others he was fighting with, as well? 

She left CNN on as she threw clothing, underwear and deodorant into her overnight bag. The media was calling the group The Avengers. It also included two unidentified individuals clothed in black and the man in the red cape with the hammer that the media was insisting was called Thor, after interviewing a police officer who had been near him as he fought alongside Captain America. No one knew where Captain America had come from, and someone was getting shouted down by a panel for suggesting that it very well might be Steve Rogers, _the_ Captain America from WWII. She added her medication, a spare pair of contacts, a dirty makeup bag, and then all of the papers she needed to grade. 

She had been unable to find any immediate f lights into the city, and trains were also disrupted since Grand Central was in the middle of the conflict. She booked a train ticket to somewhere in Connecticut and decided to pick up a bus from there. 

When she bought the bus ticket, the woman had given her a sad smile. “Know someone there, darling?” Betty nodded. 

Everyone else on the bus was in a similar situation - children away at college, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, and significant others. “Pretty girl like you, has to be a fella, right?” the older woman next to her asked. 

“I’m really not in the mood to talk right now, thank you,” she replied.

“My son, he’s at NYU,” the woman said. “I told him, you don’t need to leave Boston to get a good education, what’s so great about New York, anyway? Must be something, because it keeps getting attacked! He sends me some text message - who does that, to your own mother...” 

Betty reached into her purse, pulled out her ipod and settled the buds into her ears. She paused over Adele - _that’s just asking for it, Ross,_ she told herself - and settled on Florence and the Machine. When the first song started, the woman was still talking to her. 

Betty felt bad, and almost wanted to tell her, _well, my ex-boyfriend is the Hulk. Not the Hulk, but the man that turns into the Hulk when he’s...angry._ And then what? That she was afraid he had been caught and forced to protect them from whatever those things were? That her fucking father involved? And, even if he wasn’t - he was certainly shouting at someone, somewhere, to get something together to go and apprehend Bruce. And what, exactly, did she mean by ex-boyfriend - it really wasn’t appropriate, here. Ex-love-of-my-life? It seemed to imply that another person, in the future, could assume the same role and fill the parts of her that were empty. 

She’d accepted that she couldn’t be with Bruce - that whatever they had together was another casualty of that failed experiment. Even if he could settle down, live somewhere, go grocery shopping - he was too different. She was too different. She was in no position to say that she had changed, that she had her scars as well, but it was the reality of it. She had been one of the forces that had ruined his life. 

It didn’t mean she still didn’t love him. 

She sighed and took an Ativan.

**Peggy**

They made excellent time up the coast, driving through the night until they hit New Jersey, which was fine, as far as Peggy was concerned. She had used her granddaughter’s cell phone to attempt to get in touch with some of her old S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts, but they were predictably unavailable. And even if she had gotten through, she wasn’t exactly high on their list of priorities at this point. Still, she left messages. 

After getting nowhere for awhile, she switched tactics. They finally found a hotel in New York after telling them about how her grandson had been in the middle of the attacks and she had to help her daughter find him. “Grandmum,” Juliana said, when she hung up, “I’m not driving you all the way to New York if you don’t-”

“Honestly, children these days,” Peggy huffed, looking out the mirror. “Be patient.” 

The phone rang back with a restricted number as they were stuck in traffic. Peggy smiled and then wondered if she really did know what she was doing - for the first time, it seemed, the adrenaline faded and reality set in. Her stomach tightened, and she inhaled. She felt Juliana’s eyes on her and looked down at the phone.

She had buried him in Arlington next to Bucky. She had promised Steve, that night in the ruined bar, that she would make sure that Bucky had a grave there. After everyone but Howard Stark gave up on finding Steve, she had stood with hundreds of others at the gravesite as an empty coffin was lowered. In the distance, cameras filmed the event. She had never watched the newscasts, that night, she always turned off any WWII documentary that she happened across - even if it was about the Pacific, they somehow found a way to work Steve in. 

And how long had he been awake, alive? If it had been a significant period of time, he most have come to terms with things as well - otherwise, why not call her?

“Grandmum!” Juliana said, and Peggy picked up the phone.

“Hello,” she said.

“Ms. Carter,” the voice on the other end sounded ragged - as though the woman hadn’t slept in days. “I’m Agent Maria Hill, S.H.I.E.L.D. - I work alongside Director Fury-”

“I’d prefer to talk to Phillip, if possible,” Peggy said, and then a knot twisted in her stomach. Phil would have been the one to call her, unless-

“I’m sorry,” Agent Hill replied. “He’s in...surgery, right now. We’re not sure if he’ll-”

“It’s all right,” Peggy said, though it wasn’t at all. She remembered Phil when she had first met him, somehow bright eyed and bushy-tailed even though he’d spent four years as an Army Ranger. 

“I would advise against your coming to New York-”

“Too late,” Peggy said. “I’m already in New Jersey - where are we, dear?” Juliana replied, and Peggy nodded. “Outside of Newark, actually.” 

“I see,” said Agent Hill, and Peggy knew that tone. “In that case-”

“I’m not entirely sure you’re aware to whom you’re speaking to,” Peggy replied - they all thought that way, after you retired, you ceased to be important. As though it guaranteed that the useful portions of your brain oozed out of your ears and left you content to spend your days playing bocce ball. “And why the fuck did no one think to tell me that Steve Rogers was alive?” 

Juliana pursed her lips, the expression exaggerated, and then smiled. Agent Hill sputtered.

“I see,” she replied. “Is there some place you can park, ma’am? We’ve got a lot of people to see to, but I will call you back when we’ve arranged some form of transportation.”

“And that,” Peggy said, closing the phone, “Is how it is done.” Juliana applauded and began to look for a way for them to get off of the thruway. 

* * * * *

**Darcy**

Darcy had not anticipated how difficult it would be to get to Stark Tower. It was where every major news network was reporting that the Avengers were staying in the aftermath of the battle. Someone even said that they had watched them all eat shwarma in a small, damaged restaurant several hours after the battle ended, but most people disputed this account.

She only made it as far as the massive victim’s memorial that seemed to be overflowing with flowers, candles, bears, and notes before the police turned her back. They hadn’t appreciated any of the lies that she tried to make up, such as, _but I live there! On, uh, West 4th Street!_

So, yes, apparently this kind of thing required some degree of foresight - whoops, and besides, how was she supposed to know? She’d never done anything like this before, except, sort of. 

Darcy sat down on the curb and picked up her phone. She debated calling Jane to alert her to her abject failure, and then frowned. It was all Darcy’s idea, after all, and she felt pretty stupid for telling Jane that she could handle things. Though, a) Jane had believed that she was capable of this and b) Jane really should have been more...assertive, or something, given how much time Darcy had to deal with her moping around about her lost opportunity at true love or something.

“Did you know someone?” She looked up to see a young man with dark hair smiling down at her. 

“Ew, brosef, no. Do not try and pick someone up here,” she said. “It’s like hitting on someone at a holocaust memorial.”

“Hey, I was just being-”

“Yeah, yeah, nice guy. Go home, I have things to accomplish,” Darcy said. She waved her hand, scrolling through her list of cellphone contacts, hoping there might be someone on there who could be helpful, even useful. Last resort - call Jane, admit defeat, charge Jane with coming up with her own plan. Which Jane should have expected - what had Darcy ever accomplished? Tazing a wayward, exiled deity, graduating college

But then she smiled and pulled her finger up. “And Selvig was his name-o,” she hummed, and dialed.

Four unanswered phone calls later, she got up and walked to the nearest open Starbucks. It was crowded, filled with people who looked like disaster relief workers or who were just taking advantage of the coffee chain’s core function throughout most of Manhattan - provide single bathrooms that were relatively clean, at least in the sense that you could be sure no one had died in them recently.

Darcy got three shots of espresso in her drink and frowned. Hopefully Jane was air borne at this point and on her way to New York, so she wouldn’t receive Darcy’s notice of failure until she actually landed in the city. 

She tapped out an e-mail message, stopped, deleted it, and frowned at her phone. Then she checked Facebook, looked up the latest updates on the disaster from CNN - allowing herself to feel vaguely superior, again, since she knew plenty that the world news organizations didn’t, or at least weren’t releasing to the general public - and then went back to the e-mail. Why should she be apologizing, anyway? It wasn’t like she was Jane’s intern anymore, she had no obligation to do something like this. She just felt invested - not to mention, if Jane wasn’t going to tap that, Darcy was going to be next in line, because-

“Ms. Lewis?” She looked up to see two men standing over her in stereotypical black suits. 

“Aw, fuck,” she said. Then she brightened. “I was trying to get in touch with you guys-”

“You’re going to have to come with us,” Suit 1 said.

“Can I take my coffee?” she asked. Suit 1 consulted with Suit 2 and then nodded. Suit 1 reached for her laptop and she slapped his hand away.

“Dude, no, I never got my iPod back,” she said. Suit 1 raised his eyebrow. 

After they walked out and headed towards a black car, Suit 2 said, “How do you know Dr. Selvig, Ms. Lewis?” _Oh, shit,_ she thought - some notation was missing in some file, somewhere, maybe they just had her listed as “intern.” And now she was headed for some top secret government prison where they would be under no obligation to release her or to let her utilize her Constitutional rights-

“I worked for Jane Foster, as her lab assistant?” Darcy said, as each of them guided her towards a car and opened the door for her. “In New Mexico. When Thor and his mighty hammer, Mew-mew, landed, a small town got destroyed by some fire-shooting alien robot..? Look, you’re from SHIELD, right? Just ask Agent Coulson, he can totally vouch for me. I think.” 

Suit 1 and Suit 2 engaged in a form of telepathic communication as Suit 1 drove. Finally, Suit 2 held up his phone and asked, “Would you mind smiling for me, Ms. Lewis?”

“Ugh, yeah?” She did her best smile. One of the Suits turned the radio to country, which seemed excessively punitive to her. Neither Suit talked to her until one of their phones beeped back at them. 

“Agent Barton has verified your story, Ms. Lewis - but why were you calling Dr. Selvig?”

“Oh - well, Jane and Thor had a thing, right? I’m not sure if they slept together, but they shared this sort of dreamy look...um, so! Jane is in Norway, but she hasn’t seen Thor since his rainbow bridge broke...and I wanted to make sure he waited for her before he left again. Since I was closer I came first, but then I didn’t know how to...and Selvig has contact with you guys, so. He’s a close friend of Dr. Foster’s - Jane - and was in New Mexico with us.” Darcy gave him a slight wince or perhaps a grin. What had happened to Selvig that they were so punchy about him? 

Suit 1 looked at Suit 2, and then Suit 1 nodded and turned. Darcy grinned when they pulled up to the front of Stark Tower. “You’re acquainted with Mr. Odinson, then?”

“You could say that,” Darcy replied. 

“Agent Barton will meet you in the lobby,” Suit 2 said.

“Could one of you tell me your name, just in case..?”

“Sitwell,” said Suit 1.

“Cool,” Darcy replied, made sure to grab her laptop and bag, and exited the car. 

The lobby looked pretty good, considering - then she got a look at the lone figure standing in the lobby wearing a beat-up hoodie, t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of Converse. Which was pretty much the same outfit he had worn when he had picked her up in the bar, that night. Or she had picked him up - semantics, really.

Best damn make-out session of her life, and then he had fumbled when his phone rang and disappeared into the darkness. He wasn’t tall, dark, or handsome, but she had certainly thought about the things he could do with his tongue since then.

“Hey,” she said. “Agent Barton, huh?” She almost said something playful, then realized he looked like shit. Actually, worse, like he hadn’t slept for weeks and might have had a good, definitely manly cry at some point. And he definitely looked like he wasn’t particularly happy about having to deal with her. “Darcy Lewis,” she said, since he probably didn’t remember.

“Ms. Lewis,” he replied. 

“Thanks for helping clear things up.”

“Not a problem” he said. “Let me take you upstairs. Thor is looking forward to seeing you again.” He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and stared straight ahead in the elevator. 

* * * * *

**Betty**

There was one thing that she had appreciated learning from her father - there were few things you couldn’t accomplish if you determined the right ratio of money and cleavage to apply to a given situation. “Please!” she said to the taxi driver. “My best friend was working in midtown, and-” She hiccuped and looked like she was holding back tears. Then she leaned forward. “I can give you two hundred, plus the fare, if you just...”

He dropped her off at 57th Street, at the top of Central Park. Many of the entrances to the disaster area were cordoned off, but she managed to find a way to slip through. She certainly wasn’t the only person milling around, looking slightly lost. She had to stumble over debris, wreckage and dead aliens, watching as emergency responders pulled people from the ruins and draped sheets over corpses.

A few times, a soldier or police officer stopped her. “Ma’am, you can’t be here, you need to-” But all she had to do was give them a hard stare and brush them aside. It was sufficient to convince them that she was supposed to be there. Not to mention that walking zombies were very low on the triage chart at that point.

Stark Tower was cordoned off by extra barricades. It was largely intact, despite serving as a gateway to another galaxy - though a lone “A” was all that remained of the billionaire’s last name. She snorted when she saw the crowd as she approached - the few police that had been given the job weren’t having an easy time of keeping people back. 

Betty hadn’t really put too much thought into any of this, even when she recognized she wasn’t just going to be able to march into Stark Tower and demand to see Tony Stark - Iron Man - and then demand to know what he had done to Bruce. 

“They left, and then they came back!” a girl next to her side said. Betty glanced at her - she was a little dirt smudged, but it was clear she hadn’t been near the battle when it happened.

“I fucking love Iron Man!” her friend said.

“No, no, the cape guy is way hotter-” the original girl replied, and people around them turned to show their derision towards the argument or to offer their support for either side. Betty took the opportunity to slip through the crowd. It wouldn’t be very long before things would reach a critical mass and the National Guard would come in and get everyone to disperse.

As she got closer to the entrance of the building she saw the news cameras. They were being addressed by a tall, red-headed figure in a suit that was strangely impeccable, given the circumstances. It took a moment for it to click in her brain - she had read an article about Pepper Potts in a tabloid last month where the author speculated whether the CEO of Stark Industries was still dating Tony Stark.

Betty began to elbow her way through, not stopping as people protested and grabbed at her. A determined look got you a lot of leeway, especially if you appeared like you would actually cut someone for getting in your way.

She managed to get to the front of the group that had circled around Pepper. 

“Thank you so much, Ms. Potts,” a reporter said, and then turned to face her respective camera. “I’m Sara Hadley, with ABC News-”

Betty surged forward, darted past a man in a black suit, and managed to graze Pepper’s arm before two huge security guards restrained her. “Ms. Potts, please!” she said, and knew she didn’t have much time. “Bruce Banner - I’m Betty Ross!” 

Pepper stared at her, and for a moment she appeared afraid, then the CEO cocked her head. There was suddenly recognition there - how, Betty didn’t know, but she was glad, because she wasn’t sure exactly what else to say. She had hoped that the fact that Bruce’s identity was a state secret would be enough.

“Dr. Ross,” Pepper said, and she waved at the security guards. 

“You know me?” Betty asked.

“I read Dr. Banner’s file,” Pepper replied. 

“Where is he?” Betty asked, trying to regain her composure - though she felt her nostrils flare.

Pepper smiled at her. “He’s fine, he’s upstairs,” she said. “Oh, God, you must think - no, he wasn’t, he came on his own, really.” As she said this, she gently steered Betty inside Stark Tower. “Let me call Tony first, before we go up, OK? They’re probably not in the mood for too many more surprises today.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Bruce**

“Huh. Really. Well.” Bruce didn’t know why Tony was standing next to the couch he had collapsed on, speaking in one word sentences into his phone. He looked genuinely surprised, as well, which was an expression Bruce hadn’t seen over the past thirty-six hours - so that was worrisome. “On your way? Yeah. He’s...OK.” Tony glanced over at Bruce, and Bruce frowned. He had really hoped that Tony’s proximity was just a coincidence.

Tony set his phone down and then kneeled on the floor in front of Bruce. “So.” 

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, then said, “How high is the implausibility of whatever you’re about to tell me?” 

“Less implausible than Norse Gods being space aliens, more implausible than life existing outside of our little solar system,” Tony said, and then, “Is Asgard in our solar system? How does that work, anyway? I wonder if-”

“Tony.” 

“Pepper ran into someone outside, at the press conference, who is very interested in seeing you,” Tony said. He was saying each word carefully. Bruce felt slightly nauseous - and, to be fair, it wasn’t just about this immediate situation, but everything. The state he was currently in - decimated, twisted on a couch, every single cell in his body alternately screaming and shivering - was one he would prefer most, and especially SHIELD, to know about. And this one was just a little worse, since there had been no time for him to recuperate between the transformation on the Helicarrier and the next one at the battle. Adrenaline had been all that had kept him upright, or possibly because the Other Guy knew they were on their way to unbridled smashing.

Bruce realized he was supposed to respond. “Pepper?”

“Pepper’s interested in seeing you, I’m sure, after all of the things I told her about you - but, no, this is a different person.” Tony paused. “Betty.” 

After he was done, Bruce felt very bad that he vomited falafel all over Tony Stark’s floor which, though it appeared to be concrete, was probably several times more expensive. 

“Uh,” Bruce said. At least Tony had the presence of mind to take a few steps back, even though it had been the sort of event that hadn’t really announced itself with the usual gagging presentation. Bruce had just turned his head, and it had poured out. “I don’t really think I’m in the position to-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it!” Tony said, standing and clapping his hands together. “Half-digested falafel, broken glass, God-hole in the floor,” Tony grinned at that, and Bruce could see from his expression that he was going to get some sort of walkable glass put over it. “Why don’t we go somewhere with a little less biological contamination?”

“But, what I’m trying to say - that’s evidence, of it,” Bruce managed.

“Unfortunately, I’m not really in a position to say no...I could lock Pepper out of the room, but she knows all of the override codes - well, except the super-double-secret-override code, but JARVIS has a crush on her, so he would let that go-” Bruce groaned and rolled over so he was faced with couch cushions. “Come on, buddy! This is a pleasant surprise, right?” 

_Buddy?_ Bruce thought, because - really? They had known each other a maximum of ten, eleven hours since everything had happened. Combat bonds, he supposed, and that might also explain why Tony had actually been pleasant to Steve after the battle. “Sorry about the hole in your floor,” he said, before managing to lurch his way upright.

“Happens to the best of us,” Tony replied, a little too cheerfully - it made Bruce worry for him. “I’m just glad JARVIS was operational so he could capture it. I can’t wait to show you the security footage - puny god! Perfect! There’s a little room right off of here...” 

_You know you are rich when...you run out of conventional names for the rooms in your tower,_ Bruce thought, and was relieved that he managed something like that, since he was going to need a degree of mental acuity if Betty was, in fact, here. “How is our puny god?” Bruce asked.

“Haven’t got an update since Natasha texted to let me know they had him secure on the Helicarrier,” Tony said. “Presumably that means they found something amongst their Phase II alien bullshit...because, otherwise, I don’t know, do you think they did a good job of containment last time?” Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head. “I, uh, told them they could all stay here. Tonight.” Bruce nodded. 

The room was dimly lit, which was relieving - the Other Guy protected him from a lot of things, but for some reason, he had declined to cover migraines, probably due to their frequency. Bruce could feel one building in the back of his head and the dura over his brain was crackling as he moved. 

Tony gestured for him to sit in an overstuffed chair then instructed JARVIS to let Pepper know where they were. “How long has it been..?”

“How do you know Betty?” Bruce asked.

“I read your file,” Tony replied. “Didn’t they give you ours?” 

“Well,” Bruce said, because Natasha had when they boarded the Quinjet after she extracted him from Kolkata. “I mostly just looked at the pictures.” Tony grinned at this and then rolled back on his heels. “A year, maybe less.” 

“Well, OK,” Tony said and then, for the first time since Bruce had met him, he didn’t really have anything to say. Or maybe he did, and was just trying to be thoughtful about it, and was interrupted by the door opening and Pepper entering the room. 

This was Bruce’s first time meeting Pepper Potts, even though he had seen the photo of her in Tony’s file. She was prettier in real life.

So was Betty.

“Ohmygod,” Betty said, voice soft, and she lingered in the doorway as Pepper made her way to stand next to Tony. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Bruce was surprised to see Tony was dating a woman who was taller than he was, at least when she was in heels. “Are you OK?”

“Um, yes and no, really, right now, not feeling so great, but overall, fine-” He paused. “I’m...I missed you.” 

She moved quickly and kneeled down next to his chair after casting a suspicious look in Tony’s direction. “Could we have some time..?”

“Of course,” Pepper said, and she guided Tony out of the room.

Bruce sighed. “Are they fucking with you?” Betty asked. “Who made you...what did they force you to do, I couldn’t believe you’d be back in New York, of all places, and...was it my father-”

Bruce reached over, about to grab her hand, and then stopped, not sure if it was appropriate. “No,” he said. “General - your father wasn’t involved.” _Yet,_ he added, but that was something to deal with at some later point in time. “I’m OK.”

“OK?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“There’s no US Army involvement here,” he said. “It’s a different security group - SHIELD?” Betty shook her head. “Tony’s involved, too. Really, I’m OK. I decided to do this - a former Russian assassin asked me, very nicely, for my help.”

“A former Russian assassin? Are you sure-”

“They’re a secret world security agency,” Bruce said. “So they’ve got some international...operatives.” He laughed, slightly, then, because he had to wonder what Thor qualified as. Betty shook her head at him and then laid her head down on her hands, which she had rested on the side of the chair.

“I was so sure, when I saw Him on TV...” Bruce reached forward and put his hand on the back of her head and stroked through her hair, tentative at first, and then when she didn’t object he ran his fingers through in a more soothing motion.

“I’m OK,” he said. “I’m just...tired, and - Betty?” She looked up, and he gave her a soft smile. She had been trying to hide it, but he knew - how long had they been together? It certainly felt like they had only been apart for a matter of days. He dragged his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tear that was slowly trickling down. 

“I just had to check,” she said, and gave him a slight smile back. “Oh, god, Bruce, I never thought-”

“I know,” he said. They were at a really awkward angle for this - he wished he had sat on the couch. At this point, it would seem strange and almost a little rude, perhaps even presumptuous, to suggest it. “How did you get here?”

“I took a bus, and then a cab, and then I walked...I was in the lab and I went to go and get some coffee and everyone was watching what was happening on TV and...” she was shaking, and so he did the next best thing to holding her, which was to slide off of the chair, onto the floor, and drape his arm across her shoulder. She settled her head into its normal position on his shoulder. He used to joke that there was a groove there for it. “Are you sure they won’t hurt you?” 

“Yes,” Bruce said. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly, and she was back to being all business. “You must be tired, I know that it...and I’m sure you want to go to wherever...where are you staying?”

“Master Stark has invited Dr. Banner to spend the night in one of the undamaged bedrooms,” JARVIS said - his timing, at least, was better than his programmer’s.

Betty jumped at his voice. “It’s JARVIS,” Bruce said. “It’s Tony’s AI.” 

“I am sure the invitation will extend to you, Dr. Ross,” JARVIS added.

“AI?” Betty said, glancing around and then looking at Bruce. “And it clearly has the capacity to - and the subroutines must let it-”

“I know, right?” Bruce said, and was surprised but pleased that they were both grinning at one another. “And it does, yes, as far as I can tell - no offense, JARVIS.”

“None taken, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replied. “Shall I alert Master Stark to this development?”

“Please do,” Bruce said, and Betty shook her head at him.

“Really, I don’t want to be some...I’m sure you have things you need to do, now, that you’ve saved the world, and-”

“It’s fine,” Bruce said. “Tony invited the whole team for a slumber party. You can meet them all.”

“Even Captain America?” Betty asked, and then she blushed slightly. A year ago, Bruce would have laughed at her, but it didn’t seem appropriate now. 

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “Why not?” 

* * *

**Tony**

“So, this isn’t awkward or anything,” he said, leaning back into the couch in the penthouse apartment - Pepper had not only removed him from the room, but the floor upon which Bruce’s reunion was taking place. She looked up from her smartphone - and, yes, there was a part of him that couldn’t help but think, _oh, so you manage to have that attached to your hand at every moment except when..._

“Well, of course it is,” she said, voice soft, and she put the phone down and sat down next to him. “But...it’s not our place.”

Tony nodded, though he looked straight ahead - Pepper hadn’t seen Bruce, the way he was right before Betty had turned up. He was pale and shaking, slightly, and very much looked like he needed to get tucked into bed with his teddy and have someone bring him a large vat of chicken noodle soup. Tony was willing to give him that, or whatever he needed - and now he would be a lot less willing to have Bruce’s Giant Green Rage Monster come out to play if this was the result. “Why do you think it’s your...”

“Nothing, we hit it off,” Tony said, hoping that he had struck the right chord to keep Pepper from probing further, somewhere between dismissive and disinterested. “And it’s not like he’s got anyone, and...”

“You can tell she has honest intentions,” Pepper said. “I don’t even know if she wants...she really just wanted to make sure he was OK.”

“Well, her father pulled a number on him,” Tony said, probably blowing whatever cover he had previously created with how embittered that sounded. 

“Father?” Pepper asked.

“Didn’t I get you a copy of the files? Or were you too busy playing footsie with-” Tony stopped, and looked down. Pepper wrapped an arm around him. “You don’t need to comfort me. He was your friend, too.” 

“It’s hard not to be friends with someone who one threatened to taze you and then watch Supernanny,” she replied, grinning slightly, though he could tell she was choking up as well. That was about right, given the way the whole day had gone.

“You weren’t there-”

“JARVIS tapes everything, Tony,” she said. “And he lets me know if there’s anything I might find-”

“Traitor,” Tony said. JARVIS did not respond, and so he shook his head. “I really should have programmed him to better withstand feminine wiles.” 

“You could only give him what you knew,” Pepper replied, and Tony huffed and then turned and looked at her. Tears were collecting at the corners of her eyes, and for a small moment he wondered if it would really be appropriate to brush them aside - actually wondered if she had cried for him, and really, how stupid was he being? Of course she had. She’d been riveted to the television when he had tried to call, and it wasn’t like she was expecting it. He wasn’t, after all, in the habit of calling from the middle of battles or letting her know that he was going to die. 

So he reached and gently wiped the tears away before smiling at her. “Yes, her father,” he said. “General Thaddeus Ross, dickhead to his friends, worse to his enemies. I’m not sure how it all went down outside of the official SHIELD reports, but...he was responsible for what happened to Bruce after, definitely, and maybe even before the whole Hulk thing. He never liked him.”

“That was in the file?” Pepper asked.

“There was quote from Betty where she indicated her father had never approved of her dating him, given that he’s also a super-genius and the world’s foremost expert on-”

“Do you have a crush, Mr. Stark?” Pepper asked, and Tony felt his tongue go slightly dry at the suggestion, even if it was...well, OK, sort of accurate, because while he had spent a lot of time with Dr. Banner’s papers he had never thought to look the guy up on Google Images and had no idea that he would be so cute. Or be the sort of person who seemed to wear purple shirt’s without irony. 

“Well, you’d be in the best position to make an observation on that,” Tony replied, and then sighed, because he hadn’t meant it to come off the way that it did. He glanced over at Pepper, who was frowning slightly, and felt the urge to say something like, _no, no! It’s all peaches and fucking ice cream! Let’s go ride a merry-go-round._ Alternately, he felt like he was having one of those discussions with his father where he had to practically beg for Howard to let one of his friends from school come over to the house to play. “Look, it’s just...this-” he waved his arms around, “-is a lot to process, without having to try to connect, or reconnect, with...”

“You think we should interrupt them?” Pepper asked, and her voice was calm, though there was something in the tone that made her sound more like his personal assistant than his partner.

“How long have they been alone together?” Tony asked, and Pepper glanced at her watch.

“Fifteen minutes,” she said.

“Give them half an hour,” Tony replied. “Then we can sweep in with offers of food and accommodation, unless they’re naked by that point. I have no idea how giant green rage monstering can effect the libido-” 

“I was just pleasantly surprised his pants managed to stay on the entire time,” Pepper replied, and _there,_ Tony thought, _back to where we should be. Look, mom, I can have a relationship!_

“Well, not when he shrunk back down,” Tony replied. “Thankfully, the God of Thunder’s cape is actually detachable, so that was good.” Pepper gave him a smile, genuine enough that there were crinkles around her eyes, and Tony relaxed and poured himself another drink. “Hey, have you talked to Rhodey?” 

“No,” Pepper said. “I’ve tried to get a hold of him, but he must be doing something-” 

“Want to see if I can get through?” Tony asked, and he grinned at her. 

“Only to hear the lecture he’s going to give you,” Pepper replied. “Do you think he can do anything about General Ross?” 

“Different branches,” Tony said, though it was a good point - why he kept Pepper around, really. Someone was going to have to deal with General Ross, because he appeared to be a bit obsessed with the Hulk and was no doubt sitting somewhere, smoking one of those foul cigars and plotting.

* * * * 

**Clint**

“So, funny story,” Tony said, while they were in the elevator, “but Bruce’s ex - well, not sure if she’s really an ex, at this point - Betty turned up. Saw him fighting on TV. Wanted to make sure he wasn’t being used as a military weapon.” Tony was rocking back and forth on his heels, which was starting to annoy Clint - it appeared that it was impossible for the man to remain still. Hadn’t anyone looked into medication? They were certainly rich enough.

“Dr. Banner was used as a military weapon?” Thor asked, frowning. “This would explain his trepidation.”

“That it would, Big Guy,” Tony replied, then turned and glanced at Steve, who was staring straight ahead. 

“Are we worried about them showing up?” Steve asked. “Looking for their...” 

The elevator opened, and Clint glanced over at Natasha, not really in the mood to talk right now. He had been fine, really, after the battle - still high on the fact that he managed to jump off of that building and rappel into another without dying and that he had used a bow and arrow to kill aliens, he supposed. Now, he was not, and he didn’t want to be around these people and he didn’t want to have to talk to them. He wanted everything to be over. 

“SHIELD is monitoring General Ross’ activities,” Natasha said. 

“I’ve got Rhodey on it too,” Tony said, and then noted Steve’s look of ignorance. “Colonel James Rhodes, U.S. Air Force, my...friend.” 

“Just for Bruce?” Steve asked. 

“Please tell me you signed some sort of paperwork before letting my father hit you with whatever the fuck vita-rays were, Cap,” Tony said, stepping out of the elevator, and before Steve could say anything further, Tony added, “Anyway, she seems like she’s quite nice, and they’re...enjoying some alone time, I suppose, so!” 

“No,” Clint said, and was surprised when everyone stopped to look at him - he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “I mean, if you’re going to throw some kind of _We Saved the World Party_ , no. I would really like a shower.” Or ten.

“Well, we can do both,” Tony said - and was he pouting? Yes, he was, and not that Clint had doubted Natasha’s reports when she had been undercover with him, but...it was an entirely different thing to see it all play out in person. “The night is young.” 

“Much as I appreciated your bread and meat,” Thor said, “I require more sustenance. Are your food stores intact?” 

“Should be,” Tony replied. “And if not, there’s ways around that, big guy - so...shower? Food. Captain, I’m presuming food - Natasha?” Natasha made the slightest grumble at the use of her first name - there were people who had worked with her for years who had only just managed to drop the Agent in front of Romanov - but then she rolled her eyes.

“Shower,” she said, glancing at Clint. “Can you let us know-”

“JARVIS will tell you,” Tony said, and began to talk to Steve and Thor about something or other he was pretty sure he had in his pantry that was going to blow their minds, leaving Clint and Natasha in the hallway.

“Natasha,” Clint said. “Don’t.” 

“You think I’m going to try and make you feel better?” she asked. “All that was just to make sure you’d go and fight.” The air was heavy between them, for a moment, before she gave Clint a slight smile. 

He wasn’t in the mood, especially- “You didn’t tell me,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know,” she replied. “You knocked my ear piece out. I didn’t know until you did.” He couldn’t tell if she was telling him the truth - he has never been able to tell when Natasha lied. This was why she was the spy and he was the sniper.

He wanted to say something snappy in retort, but it all got caught in his throat - which was better, really, because she wasn’t his enemy. Neither were the agents who had averted their eyes from him on the Helicarrier, and with each glance away, he wanted to ask, who was it? Your friend? Training partner? Mentor? The crush that you tried to eat lunch at the same time as?

Instead, he said, “I killed him.” 

“Clint,” Natasha said, and shook her head. “We both know that’s not what happened.” 

“It is, though - how can you just say that?”

“You were making a statement of fact,” she replied, dropping her voice. “If you would like to talk about...feelings, then we can have a different conversation.” 

“Well, you’re certainly the person to have it with,” he replied, and Natasha actually took a step back from him before shaking her head. Clint’s phone began to buzz in his back pocket. He didn’t remember getting a new one, though it had not been high on his list of things to really pay attention to. “Oh, god, Nat, I-”

“Answer your phone, Clint,” she said. 

“It’s a text,” he said. “From Sitwell.” 

_We have a young woman in custody claiming to be Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster’s intern from New Mexico during the Hammer Incident,_ it read. _She appeared on our radar when she attempted to call Dr. Selvig from a location in Midtown New York._

_Fuck, Jasper,_ Clint thought, reading it over again to make sure his mind wasn’t tricking him, _how long have we worked together? You don’t need to follow protocol, especially not anymore, since-_ he stopped himself, then, and was unable to swallow for a moment, between that and the comment to Natasha.

Then he was, because Darcy Lewis’ picture filled the small screen of his phone - just as he remembered her, all dark hair, glasses, and full lips. He allowed himself a moment or two to remember how he had been tasked to watch her at a bar after standing on a mobile platform in the rain, waiting to shoot Thor. Watching had turned to interacting - which, he told himself, Coulson wouldn’t have minded. After all, maybe she knew something? 

Interacting with had turned into doing a few shots with, and laughing with, and then pulling her outside and that’s when he received a call to return to their mobile HQ. He had brushed the hair out of her face and smiled at her, and she very well may have been the one to initiate the kiss. It really didn’t matter. _Sorry,_ he said. _I really have to go._ She had given him an exaggerated pout, then pulled a pen out of her purse and wrote her number on his hand just in case, she argued, he would be in town for another few nights. She had done this even though he had his phone in his hand. 

_I can confirm her identity,_ he typed back.

_Thank you, Agent Barton,_ Sitwell replied. _We will bring her to Stark Tower in five minutes. Please meet her in the lobby._

“Oh, fuck’s sake,” he said, and considered throwing his phone into the wall until he met Natasha’s eyes. She was already thinking about getting a sedative - he remembered that look from Hong Kong - and instead he jammed the phone, hard, into his pocket.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Jane Foster’s intern is here,” he said.

“The one you made out with in New Mexico?” 

“She tried to call Dr. Selvig, and so Sitwell’s got her in a car and is bringing her here.” 

“Why?” Natasha asked, and that was a good question. Clint pulled his phone out and relayed it to Sitwell.

“She wants to talk to Thor.” 

“Oh,” Natasha said. “Of course. And since she’s - what, Jane Foster’s intern, we’re just going to let her? Has someone checked to see if Sitwell’s concussed?” 

Clint smiled at that, and Natasha smiled back, and then they both remembered where they had left things with one another. “Can’t take her to the Helicarrier,” he replied. “I have to go meet her.” He paused. “I really hope none of my exes show up, because...” Natasha smiled softly at this. 

“You want-”

“Go take your shower,” he said, and she nodded at him. As he got in the elevator, Natasha asked JARVIS where for the location of a room where she could shower and sleep for the evening.

Darcy really hadn’t changed - not that he expected that, in that short of a period of time. “Hey,” she said, “Agent Barton, huh?” She had lip gloss on, he noted, and he really wasn’t in a position to deal with that right now. “Darcy Lewis?”

“Ms. Lewis,” he replied tersely, and felt bad for it - but he had to triage, right now, and his emotions had already been allocated elsewhere. 

“Thanks for helping clear things up,” she replied, and he gestured towards the elevator. 

“Not a problem. Let me take you upstairs. Thor is looking forward to seeing you again.” He had to look straight ahead, then, because he realized he hadn’t let Thor know he had a guest coming - hopefully a guest that he would actually tolerate, let alone look forward to seeing. 

Clint didn’t say anything to her as he led her in the direction of the kitchen - he had glimpsed it from the penthouse’s main room when they had apprehended Loki, and he only got turned around slightly by a mostly decorative hallway that he hadn’t anticipated.

He stopped short of the door to assess the scene, and Darcy bumped into the back of him. “I am so sorry,” she said, and he grunted in response. Tony was seated on the counter, drinking some form of alcoholic beverage while Steve and Thor were at the table, a large platter of food between them. “Ohmygod, is that..?”

“Stark?” Clint said. “Captain? Thor - you have a visitor.” He stepped aside to reveal Darcy, and glanced back to confirm that he was right in thinking she was standing there with her mouth sort of wide and her head turned slightly to the side. If he was himself, he would have made a joke to make her feel better - something about that being the standard reaction to meeting Captain America.

“Lady Darcy,” Thor said, surprised, and they both stared at one another for a moment before he got up, took what seemed to be a single step, and engulfed her in a massive hug. “It is good to see you, my young friend.” Darcy said something, but it was largely muffled by Thor’s breast plate.

Tony and Steve were both looking at Clint, and he sighed. “Darcy interned for Jane Foster,” he said. Steve had a blank look, but Tony’s eyes widened as he considered this.

“You know Jane Foster?” he asked Darcy, who was released by Thor so she could nod. “Wait, what does Dr. Foster have to do with..?” _Right,_ Clint thought, because they wouldn’t have received a folder on Thor. No one was expecting him to show up. 

Darcy, to her credit, managed to spit out a remarkable amount of words per breath, and while Steve still seemed confused, she at least operated on Tony’s frequency. “And, so...” she said, at the end, “It was like, this big ass storm, right? And so we’re out there in the middle of it and this dude falls from sky, and we ran over him with the Winnie? But only a little, so it was cool, and then-”

“You utilized your portable lightening powers against me,” Thor said, putting a large hand on her small shoulder.

“I tazed him,” Darcy said.

“You tazed him,” Tony said. Then, “Of course.”

“They are most formidable weapons,” Thor said, and the set of his jaw indicated that Tony could dispute that at his own peril. “Though, it should be known I was in a mortal form at that juncture.” He crossed his arms.

“So, wait, who is Jane Foster?” Steve asked, raising his pointer finger like the polite young man he was. 

“His girlfriend,” Darcy said, and Thor’s mouth opened slightly, so she had to double back. “I mean, oops, no? Distance a little too much? I mean, that was why I came here - cause she’s in Norway, right now, and we saw you on television, and she wanted to make sure...but she’s far away? So I came? To make sure you don’t leave without..?” 

There was a lot packed into that statement but key, for Clint, was the _saw you on television_ part. He looked up and met Stark’s eyes and realized he was thinking the same thing. 

“Although,” Tony said, thinking out loud, “I’ve been a professional hero for awhile now, so presumably any errant ex-girlfriends would have appeared...before this.” He cocked his head at Clint, keeping his grin amused.

Clint immediately turned to discuss this development with Natasha and then realized that she wasn’t there - that he had sent her away because he was too much of an asshole to not lash out at someone who was trying to be kind to him despite everything he’d done. 

“Well,” Thor said finally, “I had full intentions of making contact with the Lady Jane, given the abrupt nature of my departure, last time.”

“Yeah, what happened with that? Do you know how long I spent out in the desert, looking for another one of those Einstein-Rosenwhatsits?” 

“The Bifrost broke,” Thor said.

“Oh,” Darcy replied. “We sort of figured that. I guess you can’t, like, send e-mail, though-”

“How’d it break?” Tony asked, because, apparently, he had reached the limit on how long he was able to be silent for.

“It had to be destroyed,” Thor replied, voice terse, “in order to prevent Loki from annihilating the Jotunns.” 

They all looked at each other, for a moment. _Wait for it,_ Clint thought, and then Tony obliged. “Well, good to know today wasn’t Baby’s First Genocide.” 

* * * * *

**Bruce**

He wasn’t even sure what they talked about for over an hour - reworking the same grooves, mostly, who had done what and who bore responsibility with the accident, trying to negotiate who was going to have to carry what burden with them as they moved forward from here. 

Then there was the two hours where they had dozed on each other - another familiar groove, this from when they would sit on the couch in his apartment, bleary eyed from grading student problem sets and exams and deciding whether they were going to watch a movie or catch up with their favorite television show. Sometimes there were mugs of hot chocolate or blankets, and usually they would curl into each other and find the most comfortable way to doze off before the end of the DVD announced itself and they would shuffle off to bed.

Bruce was startled when he woke up, because for a long moment he thought that he was back to before the accident and that maybe he had just had a terrible, compact waking nightmare. Then he realized that he wasn’t in his living room, or Betty’s, and that his joints and bones and viscera were still on fire. “Betty,” he said, and even with the realization of where he was, temporarily, he kissed her lightly on the head. “Are you alright?”

“Hunh?” she said, and looked up at him, eyes still hooded from sleep - two hours was a rude point to be awakened from slumber, which was probably why they were both disorientated. “Oh. Bruce.” 

“Hey,” he said, and then quickly moved away from her when he sensed how tense she became at all of the points of contact between them. “Feel a little more rested?”

“I, uh, maybe,” she said, and then, thankfully, her stomach made a pointed, growling sound.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Bruce said. “OK?” Betty seemed relieved by this as well, and JARVIS was quick to inform them that there was a little gathering in the kitchen and that food had been set out.

Betty followed behind him, even though he really had no idea where he was going. He mostly navigated by the sounds of voices - it looked like the rest of their motley crew was back, or, in the very least, Thor was. “Hello,” he said, standing in the door, and when no one turned to indicate they had seen him, he coughed, then said. “Um, hello?” 

“Bruce!” Tony said, and his grin was wide, and it seemed more genuine than the one he had plastered on his face earlier when he had come in and asked if Bruce and Betty needed anything and to assure Betty there was plenty of room for her. “And Betty!”

“So, you know Tony,” Bruce said, feeling really silly, “And that’s Captain Rogers-”

“Steve, please, ma’am,” Steve replied, looking a bit mortified that his mouth was full - it had to have been the lesser of two evils for him, though, talking with his mouth full over not properly acknowledging an introduction. 

“Oh, gosh, ma’am?” Betty said, “I’m not that old.” She made a soft, tittering laugh that Bruce remembered from when he had made attempts to flirt with her - and he might have made something of it, but it was Captain America. Even straight men had to get that way around him. 

“Yes, but he is,” Tony said.

“And that’s Thor,” Bruce said, and Thor waved. “And, I’m sorry, you’re-”

“The Lady Darcy Lewis,” Thor said, not self-conscious at all that his mouth was full. “She is a friend from my previous time in your realm and is the companion of the Lady Jane Foster.” Bruce arched an eyebrow at Tony, having definitely missed that one of the world’s most prominent young astrophysicist’s was somehow involved in all of this...though, on the other hand, of course she was.

“Really?” Betty asked, and she didn’t make an effort here to conceal the excited tone in her voice. “You worked with her? That most have been such an exciting opportunity, what sort of science do you major in?”

“Political,” Darcy replied. “But, not anymore. I graduated.” 

“Oh,” Betty said.

“And, everyone, this is Dr. Betty Ross,” Bruce said.

“Betty is fine,” she replied.

“Sit, Betty, please, help yourself to something to eat, I feel like a really bad host because you haven’t let me feed you yet,” Tony replied, and he slid off of his perch on the counter and pulled a chair out for her at the table. “Clint and Natasha are back, as well, but they’re in the bedroom they’ve elected to share to make more room for our guests...” 

Tony pursed his lips at Bruce, and Bruce sighed. Betty had been the one to respond to Tony’s inquiry as to what kind of sleeping arrangements they were going to need, quickly stating that a separate bedroom would suit her before apologetically looking at Bruce. He could almost read Tony’s thoughts at that moment - _mixed singles, eh, Jolly Green? Comes into a battle zone to check and make sure you’re OK, but wants a separate bed._

“Was your trip into the city difficult?” Steve asked, and Bruce resisted the urge to face palm. _He’s just a kid,_ he reminded himself, and who knew how people behaved back then?

“No, I took a bus, it was alright,” Betty said. “What about you?” 

Darcy looked up from the hummus she was eagerly dipping some carrots into. “Oh, I drove as close as I could get, I’m staying with my parents in Princeton while I - well, the plan was I was going to look for employment in the city, but, not a construction worker, so! - and then walked the rest, so, not too bad.” Betty smiled and took some pita bread, then glanced at Darcy, and then Thor.

Bruce had been ready to label Darcy - she was like so many other students who had drifted through his classes over the years - until she immediately picked up on what Betty was trying to communicate. “Oh, no, not me! Ha! Are you kidding? No, I am here on the behalf of Jane, who wanted to make sure that...well, we didn’t have a repeat of last time.”

“A most regrettable situation,” Thor said, glancing down at his hands and frowning. Bruce wondered if anyone had asked him how he was doing, was really doing, considering that it was his - adopted - brother currently chained somewhere in the bowels of SHIELD. “I am glad you are here, Lady Darcy.” 

“Cool,” Darcy said. “I try to do the right thing, you know. Hos before bros.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s the right pop culture jargon,” Tony said, then he looked at Bruce. “Take a seat, Dr. Banner, we’re all friends here - either at the table, or on the counter.” 

Bruce slid onto the counter next to Tony, not wanting to disrupt everyone who was eating. 

“You’re right,” Darcy said, glancing over at Tony. “My thinking was, flip bros before hos, except bros before hos doesn’t really apply here, except in the sense that it does, because. Well.” She stuck a carrot in her mouth and chewed. 

Tony elbowed Bruce, who just shook his head - of course he would like her. Though Bruce had to admit that her ability to sit at a table with an alien and/or Norse God and Captain America and to appear completely unfazed was impressive.

“Jane’s coming in from Norway,” Darcy said to Betty.

“Oh, I see,” Betty said. 

An awkward silence descended, and Bruce fought the urge to kick his legs against the cupboard - and he knew, now, he shouldn’t have been so quick to suggest they get something to eat. He should have turned, and looked at Betty, and said, _what do you want from me?_ It made it a little better, knowing she wasn’t the only one with this idea, that rushing to protect someone you cared about was an impulse that others had acted on. But still, he had thought that they had agreed on where things stood.

“You know what?” Tony said, obviously incapable of withstanding silence, “We need booze, especially since the party-poopers are in bed. Lewis, you’re over age, right? Doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it - Bruce, you mind helping me?”

“Oh,” Bruce said, knowing what was about to happen - sure, he had saved the other’s man’s life, but did he know him well enough to have a heart-to-heart, at this point? “Sure. Yes.” 

Once out of ear shot of the kitchen, Tony began with, “So, you getting back together? Right where you left off?”

“We left off with me...leveling Harlem,” Bruce said.

“Yes, to save it from that...orange frilled thing, what was he, like the Stegosaurus of Hulks?” 

“Didn’t they have several bony plates, not a large frill?” Bruce asked.

“Probably,” Tony said. “I went through my dinosaur phase when I was three - are you going to answer my question?” Bruce narrowed his eyes at Tony, who appeared to be actually interested and concerned. It was just like when he had invited Bruce to come and behold the Tower’s ten floors of research and development - Bruce had, initially, thought it was just another throwaway remark until he had met Tony’s eyes and realized he was sincere. 

“I have no idea,” Bruce replied, and began to collect the bottles Tony was handing him against his chest. “Do you really think we need this much?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but two of ours guests have really been packing away the food, so I can only assume their metabolism has the same effect on alcohol.” 

* * * * *

**Steve**

“Actually,” Steve said, pushing back from the table, “I can’t get drunk.” He passed the glass, primarily full of whiskey, back to Stark.

“Sure you can,” Tony said, passing the glass back at him, “No one’s holding you up to be a paragon of National Values here, right?” Steve watched as everyone shook their head.

“I understand you may feel that it is inappropriate to drink when our triumph is not without consequence,” Thor said, “but we can use it as an opportunity to bond with one another over what we have gained and lost.” He downed whatever Tony had poured into his glass and then shoved it back at him. “Another.”

“I was waiting for that!” Darcy said. “Aren’t you going to break the glass?”

“No,” Thor said, furrowing his brow. “You informed me that was not the correct custom. Does it only apply to coffee?” 

“No,” Darcy mumbled. “Applies to everything.” 

“What I mean is,” Steve said, and did conversations happen at this kind of speed, before? He often felt like he was watching a tennis match being played by super humans. “I am unable to get drunk. Alcohol has no effect on me, because of the...” He glanced over at Bruce and Betty, not sure how sensitive a topic it was amongst them. All that was in Dr. Banner’s file was that his condition had been the results of efforts by General Ross to recreate the super soldier serum, though Bruce had been unaware of that at the time.

“Really?” Tony asked. “That is...well, fuck, Captain, that is a real national tragedy.”

“It’s not something to make light of,” Steve replied.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Tony said.

“No, national tragedies,” Steve said, and he lifted his chin up towards the window. Outside, you could still hear an occasional ambulance siren. 

“I agree with Thor,” Darcy said. “Alcohol - good coping mechanism.” She sipped her own drink and smiled, almost nervous, at the assembled people.

“Sometimes,” Bruce said, taking a large gulp of his own drink and raising an eyebrow at Betty, who nodded her head. Steve tried to concentrate on them, for a moment, but he found it difficult - it was what he should have had, sometime in 1944, a reunion with the person he loved and had been separated from by circumstances outside of their control. And yet neither Betty nor Bruce seemed particularly happy, rather, they were walking on eggshells around one another. Not that Steve could presume would to know what had happened to lead them to separate, but...

“Look, at least humor me, eh, Cap?” Tony asked, and Steve finally relented, because it wasn’t going to end if he gave in. He resisted the urge to make a comparison to Howard - he could only imagine how Stark would take that. “That’s a good boy.” 

“I’m older than you are,” Steve said.

“Not technically,” Tony replied. “And, if Lewis hadn’t shown up, you’d the youngest one here.”

“I thought you were born at the beginning of this century,” Thor said.

“Well, yes, but I was...asleep, I guess, for seventy years,” Steve said. “Well, frozen. In some ice.” 

“Ah,” Thor replied. “My father has periods of Odinsleep, though we count the years that pass as though he has been present for them - however, even in his slumber, he is all-knowing, all-seeing.” 

“And I thought Santa Claus was creepy,” Darcy said. “Anyone? No. I’ll shut up now.”

“I used to hate that song, too,” Betty said, and Steve glanced down at the glass of alcohol and wished he could get drunk - there had to be a reason people did it, after all. Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t been drunk before, but then it had only taken a couple of beers before he was slurring his speech and watching the world pass him by with amused detachment. Back then, he didn’t have a particular reason for turning to it, other than to make double dates with the whatever dame Bucky’s date brought along with her better more tolerable, or to just get through a night of watching Bucky fend off women who wanted to add his name to their dance card. Once he actually had a need for its emotion numbing powers, he found it was one more thing that the serum had taken away from him.

“You are completely immune to the effects of alcohol?” Thor asked, turning to Steve, and Steve had to nod. “Well, we shall see - when I return, it will be with several cases of Asgardian mead.” 

“Now that is a party,” Tony said, and Steve just shook his head. He wanted to pull Thor aside and ask him how he was managing, with everything that had happened to him, to put on some jovial front? Was it because that was what was expected - was it the same way Steve had to become Captain America after he had woke up in a century he had never planned on living through? 

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” came a voice from the doorway, and Steve was surprised to see Natasha in her pajamas.

“Is Agent Barton all right?” Steve asked.

“He’s asleep,” she replied. “What sort of vodka do you have?” 

“Really?” Tony asked.

“Really, Stark,” she replied, took the bottle that he was offering her, and then took a large swig out of it.

“That was impressive,” Darcy said, and her eyes already seemed to be a little glazed over. Steve hoped he didn’t have to be the one to carry her off to bed - he had caught the way she was regarding him, her interest hungry, and it made him wonder about a lot of things, like if there had been Captain America trading cards, what other types of media had he been involved in? He certainly got the impression on the Helicarrier that people knew about him, and not just because it was part of their jobs. 

“She’s Russian, so, not really - oh, Natasha, this is Darcy, and Betty. Darcy, Betty, this is Natasha, otherwise known as Natalie, otherwise known as...well, it would probably take hours, wouldn’t it?” Tony asked, and it made Steve wonder what Natasha had done to him, exactly. He glanced over at Bruce and was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one - and it was almost asking a little too much, to have to figure out the tangled way that all of these people were connected.

“You’re one of the Avengers,” Darcy said. “It must have taken a lot of confidence to like, go out there in skintight spandex. Like, what if you were bloated?” 

Natasha wrinkled her nose at the younger woman, indicating that bloated wasn’t really something that happened to her. “You were in my freshman intro to biology course,” Betty said, narrowing her eyes at Natasha.

“Yes,” Natasha said, voice soft. “That’s quite a good memory-”

“Not really,” said Betty. “You stood out because of the bad blonde wig.” Natasha gave her a hint of a smile.

“You would think SHIELD would have a better budget,” Tony said. 

“Not everyone has the equivalent to the GDP of a small European nation,” Natasha replied.

That was enough for Steve, and he pushed his chair out, left his alcohol, and excused himself for the night. Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Steve just held his hand up at him, and thankfully that was enough for Tony - or maybe it was the fact that Bruce slowly shook his head at the other scientist. It didn’t matter. Whatever it took to get them to just let him go for the night.

He got to the elevator bay before he realized that he had no idea where he was supposed to sleep for the night, and when he turned, he was surprised to see that Thor had followed him. “Captain,” Thor said. “You seem unusually contemplative.” 

“Well,” Steve replied, and he looked up to meet Thor’s eyes - and how long had it been since he had to do that? “It’s fine. You don’t need to - I mean, I’m sure you have...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it is fine,” Thor replied. “There is much that weighs heavy on me this night.” From his experiences with Loki and Thor, Steve was fairly certain that Asgard wasn’t the sort of place where you talked things out - there was probably some sort of masculine blood sport involved. “Perhaps it is why I can recognize it in another. Your leadership was most able today.” 

“Thank you,” Steve said. “But...” He paused, for a moment, and decided it would be better to say it aloud then let it eat at him. “I mean, you’re from a different planet and you still have someone you care about here.” 

“Ah,” Thor replied. “I had suspected as much.” 

“It’s all very recent, to me,” Steve replied. 

“I understand,” Thor said. “But you are not alone.” He glanced down at the floor for a moment. “Tony Stark wished for me to tell you to go to the 59th floor and find Room 12, and to be certain not to disturb Agent Barton, who is asleep in Room 11.” 

“Thanks,” Steve said, and Thor nodded at him before plodding back down the hall for the kitchen. For a moment, Steve wanted to chase after him - he didn’t necessarily want the conversation, the quips, the banter, whatever else it was that was going on when he left. But he did want to just be with other people, and for the first time since he had awoken, it seemed that he had been comfortable with the presence of someone else. 

But it would just be embarrassing - how did you even handle that? _Right, so, I said I was going, but something made me reconsider._ As though that would go well - Tony could certainly make an innuendo from less.

A shower, Steve decided, because he hadn’t had one of those since the battle. A shower, sleep, and in the morning - well, it wasn’t like things would be any different in the morning, except it would be a different day in the future.

* * * * *

**Tony**

“Sir, Agent Hill is on the phone for you?” Tony rolled his eyes in the general direction of the ceiling - she was high on the list of people he didn’t want to speak to, mostly because this should have been outsourced to Natasha and Clint. Next time he saved the world he was going to go to his island, which purposefully lacked cell phone reception. 

“Tell her I’m just a consultant,” he replied, and rolled over in bed. “Also, that it’s eight in the morning and, after catching and releasing that errant nuclear weapon, I get to sleep in...” This was true, because he did think he deserved it, but not true, because he hadn’t actually been asleep for some time. Pepper woke at six thirty, as she usually did, and kissed him on the forehead and told him to go back to sleep, and he didn’t really have the inclination to argue with her. 

“She’s rather insistent, sir, and says this is something she’d prefer you to speak to her about.” 

Tony sighed, waved his hand, and braced himself - he had exchanged some brief dialogue with Fury’s right hand woman, but not enough to get a real read on her. The fact that she had elevated herself to that position through, presumably, gaining and currying Fury’s favor informed the majority of his viewpoint on her. “Good morning, Agent Hill,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said, and her voice was raspy and indefinite - not what Tony had been expecting. More automaton, really, not something with actual emotions.

“No, I’ve been awake for awhile,” he replied, feeling for her ever so slightly.

“Do you remember a colleague your father had at SHIELD, Margaret Hough?” Tony squeezed his eyes shut, because he knew it was just beyond his reach. 

“To be fair, Agent Hill, I didn’t know my father had anything to do with SHIELD - was she English?” 

“Yes,” Agent Hill replied. “Right now she’s on her way to the Tower in a helicopter with her granddaughter.” 

“Huh?” Tony asked, and his first thought was that Barton had a thing for more refined women, which he really wouldn’t have thought at all.

“Her maiden name was Carter,” Agent Hill replied. “I thought it might be best for you to meet her, given you have some shared history.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Tony said, and then realized that Hill had proven some of his assessment accurate by hanging up on him. “Seriously?” he asked, even though he knew it was to no one. “Seriously?” 

“I have looked through SHIELD’s flight schematics and it does indicate that there is indeed a helicopter headed towards the Tower’s landing pad,” JARVIS said as Tony stumbled out of bed and grasped around for some pants.

He had vague recollections of Mrs. Hough - he remembered Howard had called her a very old, very dear friend and told him that he was supposed to be very nice to her. He may or may not have gotten into trouble at a garden party at her house for trying to get one of her daughter’s to kiss a frog by insisting it would turn into a prince. He thought, now, that she had to have been the nice woman who had rescued him when Howard had unceremoniously dumped him in his office at SHIELD so he could go Captain America hunting or whatever the fuck they were doing back then. So, in summary, it would be a good idea to make sure he had pants on when he met her.

He ran into Barton when he was on his way to the elevator. The archer looked like shit. Tony knew, theoretically, that he wasn’t going to be the only person who barely slept through the night - but he felt a little better by having it confirmed. “I thought you tried not to get out of bed until after breakfast,” Barton said.

“Generally,” Tony replied - he’d always been relatively nocturnal, when he did sleep. “We’ve got another guest, though.”

“Yeah?” Barton asked, and then, “Wait - no.” Tony arched an eyebrow, but then felt bad for him.

“Don’t worry - none of yours,” he said.

“Oh, that’s good,” Barton mused. “Just what we need, some ex-Soviet-”

“For Captain Rogers, actually,” Tony said, and Barton raised both his eyebrows and took a long sip from his coffee.

“Huh,” he said, and Tony nodded, dodged around him, and went up to the landing pad.

He waited indoors until the helicopter had landed securely, half of the time marveling at how, not twenty-four hours before, his rooftop had been completely unmarred and now it was the site of the world’s first alien invasion, the other half of the time wondering how in the hell he was going to handle the arrival of one Margaret “Peggy” Carter-Hough. At least the serum would keep Steve from having: heart attacks, panic attacks, difficulty breathing, fainting, or any other assorted reactions to shock - which, if yesterday could be used as example, included vomiting for a lot of people. 

“Oh, JARVIS - is Pepper in the office?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t drowned out by the incoming chopper.

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS replied.

“Have her assistant order us a massive breakfast,” Tony said. “And then tell her to please, please, for the love of god, come over here because I am not handling these people myself. And let her know people should be in quotation marks.” 

“Anything else, sir?” JARVIS asked, and Tony didn’t reply. Instead, he shielded his eye from the sun - he really felt like he should burst into flame, like a vampire, being up this early - so he could watch the people emerging from the helicopter. First, a SHIELD agent stepped out and provided a hand for what had to be the granddaughter, which was a little weird, since Tony was a contemporary of the girls’ mother which meant that, if he had started popping out little Starks when everyone told him he should...then, both of them held out their hands for Peggy. Margaret. Mrs. Hough.

Obviously, she was in pretty good shape if she was able to get into a helicopter and fly into New York, but Tony was surprised to see that she was also compact and reasonably put together. She was wearing a comfortable looking jersey dress and stylish flats and had on large sunglasses that were quite similar to her granddaughter’s, though were no doubt from the era the style originated from. Her almost white hair was pinned back carefully, and she didn’t appear to have much difficulty moving once she had got out of the way of the helicopter. Then someone passed a walker from inside the helicopter, and Tony frowned.

_This is getting a little ridiculous,_ Tony thought, by which he meant emotional. And, really, superheroes squatting in his Tower weren’t enough? And shouldn’t they have known better than to stick around when the ex-significant others started to turn up?

He opened the door to let the two women into the glass room around the landing pad and allowed it to slam in the SHIELD agent’s face. He raised his eyebrows and grinned at the poor kid - _nothing personal,_ he hoped it conveyed, _but I am so done with you assholes._ Then he turned, and said, “Mrs. Hough.”

“Oh, please,” she replied, accent still crisp - and confirming yes, he indeed knew her, “You never managed to call me that as a child, why start now?” She took her sunglasses off and put them into her purse. She looked very good, for however old she was - an age Tony was pretty sure his consumption of alcohol and desire to get himself blown up would preclude him ever seeing. “Peggy is fine,” she said, sensing he didn’t remember what he had called her. “My granddaughter, Juliana, who drove us up from Florida.”

“Oh, really, hey - that’s some commitment,” Tony said, and felt lame. The granddaughter was pretty, but not in a traditional way - she had a strongly set jaw, but her eyes were large and framed with thick lashes. “Tony Stark.”

“Right, wow, nice to meet you,” she said. “Juliana.” She offered him a smile, and a shrug, and it seemed like she was trying to deflect culpability - really old people, what can you do? 

“So, here’s how this happened - I just, just got a call from Agent Hill-”

“She’s rather prickly, isn’t she?” Peggy asked him, and Tony smiled.

“Yes,” he said. “And she said you were coming, and decided to tell me, since I own the Tower, or something - and, honestly, I only just had time to pull on some clothes and I absolutely did not have time to tell-”

“I see,” Peggy said. “But wasn’t that nice of Agent Hill to leave to you to decide how to proceed?” Tony had to quirk a grin at her - he did not expect from the woman that Steve Rogers and/or Captain America had loved to be like this. Maybe because he sort of liked her. 

“We should probably start with a cup of tea,” Juliana said. “And coffee, for me, if that’s possible-”

“Possible? Hahaha,” Tony said. “Oh, it is possible. Also, be advised - we’ve got the whole crew here, this morning, and, incidentally, you’re not the first person to uh, have this particular idea. One of Bruce’s - Dr. Banner, well, actually, you probably know him as the Giant Green Rage Monster - his ex is here, and Thor’s got a visitor and another on the way from Norway-”

“You shouldn’t act so surprised,” Peggy said, following him to the elevator. “Going on television tends to bring out some of the more colorful elements from your past.”

“She’s referring to the time that my mother’s weird college stalker sent her his hair in the mail after she was on _Jeopardy,_ ” Juliana said, in the same matter-of-fact tone her grandmother had. 

“That’s great,” Tony said. “Thanks for clarifying that.” 

“Incidentally,” Peggy said, as they travelled downwards, “Have you heard about Agent Phillip Coulson? I know you worked with him as part of this Avengers Initiative, and I was wondering if you’d been updated on his surgery.”


	3. Chapter 3

* * * * *

**Jane**

“Lady Jane,” said Thor, and he took her hand and kissed it, just as he had before. Jane gave him a smile. “I am pleased you came to see me.” Jane waited. Thor smiled back. Finally, after what seemed like longer than a minute, he leaned down and kissed her. Jane sank into it - he was so large, so comfortable, so blonde. He had come to meet her on the Helicarrier when she had been flown in by one of their advanced planes from Atlanta. She might have been pissed, if some super secret world security organization had tried to intercept her sometime around, say, Paris, which was only after one train ride and one connecting flight. But after the cross-Atlantic jaunt she was very, very done with flying coach on a commercial air liner. Still - she was going to have to figure out how they got her phone number.

“I’ve been...looking for so long,” she said. “To find you. And there you were.”

“I wish that I could have let you know that I returned to this realm,” Thor said. “But your safety was of paramount importance to me.”

“I understand,” Jane said, and he placed his arm around her waist.

“Let me walk you to the motor vehicle that will be used to take us to the Tower, where Lady Darcy is,” Thor said. “I was especially concerned after my brother made Dr. Selvig his thrall.”

Jane stopped - Darcy had mentioned something about being intercepted, herself, for trying to call Selvig, but Jane had assumed it was because he had been called into look at the Tesseract after it had been reclaimed from Loki, since those things were really his area of expertise. “What happened to Dr. Selvig?”

“You were not made aware?” Thor asked, and a large crease formed in his brow. “He was working on the tesseract when Loki used it to arrive in your realm. Loki used a form of powerful magic he was given from the Chitauri to make Dr. Selvig his thrall, and the doctor was forced to help him open the portal.” 

“He brain-washed him?” Jane said. “He made him - he made him let those things in?”

“Yes,” Thor said. “That is the term that I have heard applied to the situation. I deeply regret the harm my brother has caused to this realm-”

Jane shook her head slightly, not entirely sure what to say. She hadn’t really put much thought into the possibility of brain washing, since, until now, it was something she was fairly certain that she didn’t have to worry about - but it was probably right below a robbery on the Jane Foster’s List of Things I Don’t Want to Happen to Me. And Jane was fairly certain that Eric felt the same way.

“Dr. Selvig’s knowledge was necessary for Loki to utilize the tesseract,” Thor added.

“I understand that,” Jane said, and Thor turned her so that she was facing him. 

“My brother’s actions are completely indefensible.” 

“I’m not blaming you in the slightest,” Jane said. She was having difficulty articulating what was making her feel hot and nauseous. 

She had developed strong feelings for Thor, certainly, and the night that they had spent without sleep, talking under the stars, had been one of the most...magical of her life, trite as it was. But since she had met him, the small town she had taken as a home during the winter months for several years had been set aflame by an alien weapon and her mentor and one of her dearest friends had been brainwashed into being complicit with an alien invasion that had destroyed much of Midtown Manhattan. 

As she had traveled, she had thought about what it would be like to see Thor again - the shining smile, the blue eyes, the way he regarded her that was a combination of like and lust and attentiveness. For a moment, she had had it, a euphoric feeling that she had been _right_ , but as soon as he mentioned Selvig everything had deflated. 

“Let us go to Stark Tower,” Thor said, and she began to walk along with him. Her throat felt tight and constricted.

“Where is Loki now?” she asked.

“On the Helicarrier, in a secure prison. We were able to find restraints that SHIELD had produced that keep him from being able to perform his magic.” She wondered if they would allow her to pummel him for ruining something she had been so sure of.

Instead, she returned Thor’s smile. “Yes, let’s go to the Tower. I could do with something to eat.” 

* * * * *

**Darcy**

It took Darcy a few moments to figure out what had caused the ensuing chaos - it wasn’t easy, given all the shouting and throwing of things and threats that were being uttered in Russian, but, eventually, it became clear. The Avengers had thought Agent Coulson - the dad agent that had taken all of Jane’s equipment and notes - had died at the hands of Loki. Then they had banded together to avenge him - excellent how that worked out, she thought - and now, they had learned that Coulson was actually alive and in his second intensive surgery in as many days. 

“Hey,” Darcy said to Betty, who had wisely backed away from the angry super heroes, “you want to go in the other room, or something?”

“Lovely idea,” said Peggy Carter-Hough, who Darcy had decided, within two minutes of meeting her, she was determined to grow up to become. 

Darcy nodded at Jane, who was standing mute at Thor’s side. Thor was the one to catch her gaze, and he nodded back at Darcy and then put his hand on the small of Jane’s back and gently pivoted her in the direction of the other women - something that Jane, no doubt, would have a decent rant about if she came out of the coma that she was in. What was her deal, anyway? Darcy had spent months listening to her wax poetic about the charms of Thor and how Jane suddenly believed in love at first sight - it seemed that finally seeing him again had caused an aneurysm, or something.

“Hey,” Darcy said. Jane had arrived along with Peggy and Juliana, and stared at the other two with wide eyes before turning to Darcy.

“Hello,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Are you OK?”

“Fine,” Jane replied, and the set of her jaw indicated she was grinding her teeth. Darcy sighed.

“Should we introduce ourselves?” Peggy asked, settling into the large overstuffed chair in the room and taking up court. She spouted off a curt introduction of herself and Juliana, and then turned to Betty, who was on the couch next to her and had folded her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

“I’m Dr. Betty Ross,” she said. “I dated Bruce, um, before.” She winced. It felt like they were in some sort of support group - though, to be fair, they probably all needed one. Well, except Peggy’s granddaughter. 

“I’m Darcy,” Darcy said. “Jane’s intern. I never dated anyone, though I wouldn’t mind-”

“Dr. Jane Foster,” Jane said, making eye contact with Betty. “I found Thor, when he first came through.” 

“I tazed him,” Darcy added. 

“Lovely,” said Peggy. “Shall I make some tea?” 

“I will make some tea, Grandmum, you should sit down,” her granddaughter said. Darcy wondered if it weird to think Juliana was really hot while simultaneously wanting to become her grandmother? She was remarkably composed, given the situation, and unlike Darcy - who was wearing a pair of legging jeans, a massive men’s sweater, and a t-shirt with the muppet Sam the Eagle on it - she was really put together and was wearing that type of subtle makeup that, to an untrained eye, looked like no makeup at all. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Hough,” said Betty, as they settled into a small sitting room adjoining the penthouse’s main living space, “But don’t you want to-”

“I’ve waited seventy years,” she replied. “I can wait for him to come back from his run and then learn what happened.” She paused, for a moment. “I fear that Agent Hill wasn’t authorized to disclose that information to me.” 

“Why would they do that?” Darcy said. “That’s so...manipulative.” 

Peggy gave her a smile that was dangerous, even on a ninety-something year-old. “You may find, Ms. Lewis, over the course of your life, that the more headstrong and intelligent the people you are working with...the more manipulation is required to make them see what is right.” 

“You’re endorsing this?” Darcy asked.

“Goodness, no,” said Peggy, though Darcy wasn’t entirely sure. “Just explaining. I’ve been there. I was actually a founder of SHIELD.”

“Really?” Betty asked, and she was worrying her bottom lip. Darcy definitely couldn’t get a handle on her - like, who made their way through a war zone to get to their ex-lover and then slept in a different room? What was she playing at, exactly? “Well.” 

“Long retired, of course,” Peggy said. “I’m a woman of leisure now.” She snorted at this.

“It’s very nice of you to humor mum and dad by staying in the home,” Juliana said, coming out of the kitchen with several mugs on a tray and a tea pot in her hand. “This is from England,” she said, and glanced sideways at Peggy. “She won’t drink anything else.” 

“Now, you’re painting me as an extremist - I quite liked that one tea we had in Canada, that was tolerable.” Juliana rolled her eyes at this, and Darcy sort of swooned. This was not a good environment for her to be in - there was Captain America, and his glorious ass, there was the guy she made out with who turned out to be a hot, brooding super hero, and now there was some random chick who had turned up and was... Darcy sighed.

“Now, Darcy, you were Jane Foster’s intern, and she is Thor’s-”

“Something,” Darcy interjected. “I mean, I don’t know. We’ve spent like, a fuck ton of time tying to recreate the rainbow bridge so he can come back to earth.”

“Rainbow bridge?” Betty asked.

“Bifrost,” Darcy replied. “Bridge linking the nine realms-”

“-and the lovers, the dreamers, and me,” Juliana said, and passed Darcy a mug of tea with a smirk. 

“Yes, dear,” Peggy said. “Now, you’ve graduated from college?”

“From Culver University,” Darcy said, and noted that Betty narrowed her eyes at her.

“You too?” Betty asked, then, “I used to teach there.”

“I majored in political science,” Darcy said.

“Juliana just graduated from Cornell with a degree in history,” Peggy said. La-ti-fucking-da, Darcy thought, and was amused to see that Peggy had finally displayed a typical grandmotherly behavior - the desire to advance your own grandchildren over the interest of any others in the conversation.

“Oh, please, it’s the Hufflepuff of the Ivy Leagues,” Juliana said. She canted her head and winced. “I think a bottle of alcohol just flew through the air.”

“Well,” Betty said, “at least there’s no danger of shortage of that around here.” Then she sighed. 

“We’ll probably need something to eat, then - why don’t you two go and get some snacks?” Peggy asked, waving at Darcy and Juliana.

Darcy followed Juliana back into the kitchen, where she almost instinctively put on another tea kettle. “Grandmum is really big on snacks,” she said. “I hope I get her metabolism.”

“Seriously,” Darcy said, pulling some gourmet cookies and chocolates out of a cabinet - she had scoped out their whereabouts last night. “This is what you have with tea, right?” And wasn’t that absurd - in the next room, a bunch of superheroes were shouting about important issues of trust and betrayal and love and life - and she was having tea with a collection of women who had come, for various reasons, to see these superheroes after seeing them fight aliens on television. Almost as good as tazing a Norse God. Almost.

“Yes,” Juliana said.

“You’re not, like, going to hook up with Captain America or anything, right?” Darcy blurted out, which was...terrible, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. It had been nagging her. “I mean, I just read a book where that happened.”

“Um, don’t think so,” Juliana replied, tossing two tea bags into the kettle.

“OK, because that kind of squicked me out,” Darcy said.

“I don’t really fancy men?” Juliana said, lowering her voice slightly. _Oh, come on!_ Darcy thought, and she nodded, hoping to convey that she definitely understood. Best to try and work on the most regular person, Ivy League notwithstanding, in this situation. Even though everyone was angsting right now, it was pretty clear that soon, they would all be having all of the sex, and Darcy hadn’t come to New York for nothing. _I ship myself with all the people,_ she thought.

“Right,” said Darcy. “Sorry.”

“No, it would be uncomfortable, I mean, I thought, watching television, goodness, he has a nice ass - and, you know, circumstances not what they are, I might be tempted to explore the nature of my Kinsey score, but... it’s just sort of fascinating, I guess. I’ve only ever known her as my grandmum - though I’ve been telling my brother for years she’s a super spy - and now...”

“Tell me about it,” Darcy said. “I thought I was doing an internship with an astrophysicist, and look where it got me?” 

“True story,” said Juliana.

They smiled at each other.

* * * * *

**Pepper**

Pepper stood amidst the chaos - the eye of the hurricane - as was expected of her, even though everyone failed to recognize that she had been close to Agent Coulson. That he was, even, her friend. But someone needed to be an adult.

“This deception is uncalled for,” Thor said. “Especially from Director Fury, who has railed against my brother’s deception and lies.” 

“Doesn’t mean he’s not a lying liar who lies,” Tony said, crossing his arms.

They’d been through this, maybe two or three times before. Pepper sighed, and then exhaled when the elevator opened. It was what she had been waiting for, because she was willing to guarantee that no one even remembered Peggy Carter-(Hough) had joined them, even though she was the one who had got this all started.

“What is going on?” Steve asked, hair and shirt sticking to him from sweat. “Why is everyone shouting at each other?” 

“Coulson’s alive!” Tony said, waving his hand in Natasha’s direction - she was, of course, trying to be rational about the whole thing and so she was Tony’s stand-in for his anger at Fury. 

“What?” Steve asked, looking around. “How? Fury said-”

“Exactly!” Tony said, and glanced around to see everyone stare at him. “Oh, come on, I’ve known him longest, besides you two-”

“What’s that supposed to mean, you two?” Clint asked, crossing his arm.

Pepper did her best to try and make eye contact with Steve, but he was surveying the room with a look that indicated he felt responsible for bringing everyone back together and coming up with an appropriate plan to deal with this revelation. 

“And who knows when, or if, we would have found out,” Tony continued, “if Peggy hadn’t come-”

“Peggy?” Steve said, and Pepper silently moved to his side.

“Oh.” Tony said. “Yes. Peggy. You know how we have Betty and Jane - well, you don’t know about her, but remember Darcy, well Peggy came and-” 

Steve turned a bit white, and Pepper put her hand on his upper arm. “She’s right over in the other room,” she said, in his ear. “Do you want to go see her? Get a cup of coffee first?”

“Um...” Steve said, then, “I should have called her.” 

“Just come over here with me for a moment,” Pepper said, and guided him away from the room where the other women were sitting and towards the kitchen. “It’s a shock, I know.”

“How?” Steve asked.

“She saw you on television, and called her granddaughter, who drove her up from Florida where she’s been living,” Pepper said. “Peggy was able to get in touch with SHIELD since she was one of the people who founded it.” Steve nodded and inhaled.

“I would like to see her,” he said. 

“Of course,” Pepper replied. “Come with me.”

When she returned to the main living space of the penthouse she was glad to see the argument was more subdued - Tony had tried to get her to call it the living room, and she made it a point to constantly rebuff his efforts to normalize the fact that it had the square footage of many people’s homes.

“I completely forgot,” Tony said, when she came to his side. “I’m an ass.”

“Well, yes,” Pepper replied, and leaned slightly so she could kiss him on the cheek. This morning, after he received the phone call about Peggy, he had come up behind her and placed her head on his shoulder and had simply said, _I love you, you’re amazing._ For a man as verbose and known to babble as Tony Stark, the statement was more than just a declaration. _I love you too,_ she replied, feeling a surge of warmth and love for him again - and she held back, though she desperately wanted to add, but I told you last time, and I mean it even more now, I can’t keep doing this. 

“Natasha and Clint will speak to Director Fury,” Thor said, “and they will go and see the Son of Coul.” 

“Good,” Pepper said, glancing over at Natasha - she had little color in her face, the only sign that she was being affected by this. The woman was the paradigm of bad-ass. “Would you like me to arrange transportation for you? No doubt he’s at Sloan.” 

“That would be appreciated,” Clint said, and he looked like he was about five minutes from passing out from exhaustion. Pepper knew, given the circumstances, the Agent was unlikely to have slept the night before. “Can I get you some coffee?” 

Clint glanced towards the kitchen, a little fearful - and Pepper understood. She could feel it between the two of them when she had escorted them there, and she had been struck by an image of Steve with Peggy when they had both been young, in the war, unsure of what might happen next. Of course, no one could realistically plan for this. 

“We’ve got a coffee machine out here,” she said. 

“We have coffee machines everywhere,” said Tony. “This one isn’t as good as the kitchen’s, but it makes twelve different kind of espresso drinks-”

“Fuck, man,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. Pepper couldn’t help but notice Bruce’s slight smile - that he seemed to understand Tony was being self effacing. 

_Stop it,_ she told herself. _He could use another friend._

* * * * *

**Peggy**

She had put it all in the back of her mind because it hadn’t happened yet, and that made it easier. She thought of Steve as she had seen him on television, in his new uniform, the same man but different. 

Peggy had not prepared herself for the fact that when she saw him again, in real life, he would be the same man and not different at all - his SSR shirt was still a bit sweaty, his hair was parted the same way, and he had the same worried expression on his face that she remembered too well. “Steve,” she said, voice soft, and he didn’t say anything, just studied her - and for a moment she worried that he wouldn’t see any of her anymore, that she had changed too much.

Juliana was at her arm, helping her up, and didn’t let go as she led her over to Steve and Pepper. “Steve,” Peggy said, regaining her voice. “This is my granddaughter, Juliana. Juliana, Captain Steve Rogers.”

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you, sir,” Juliana said, extending her right hand. It hung in the air for a moment before Steve took it.

“Thank you for driving up here on such short notice,” he said, in the tone he took when he had to be a captain.

“Not a problem,” Juliana said, and drifted back to the couch where she was now seated next to the other young woman. Peggy was pleased there was someone here for her to talk to.

Pepper led them to the kitchen, and put on a pot of water for tea - she was very good, Peggy thought, though she had to be, to deal with someone like Tony Stark. “Steve, what can I get for you?”

“A Coke, if you have one, ma’am, thank you,” Steve said, and suddenly he was himself as she had first met him - polite, small, shrunken into the chair as he sat across from Peggy. 

She was going to cry, and she didn’t want to do it in front of Pepper, no matter how efficient or polite the other woman may be. Peggy was glad that Tony Stark had a kettle that boiled water in under a minute, so Pepper could walk out as silently and quickly as she had come in.

“I should have called you,” Steve said, voice soft, shoulder still hunched. “They gave me everyone’s file and-”

“Oh, Steve,” she said, and reached across the table and took his hand. She relaxed and let the tears fall as she smiled at him. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“No?” he asked, and he seemed relieved. He ran his free hand through his hair anyway as he struggled for something to say to her, and before she could tell him not to worry, he said, “You’re still beautiful.”

“Steve,” she said, a little chiding, and then she smiled at him. She had always taken pride in the fact that, as she aged, she had maintained herself quite well - not because she wanted to be attractive, but out of pride. “When did you..?”

“Two months ago, I think,” he said. “I was...asleep, I guess, for awhile, so I’ve maybe been awake for a month and a half. They gave me an apartment in Brooklyn.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “I see SHIELD still maintains some standards.”

“I heard you help found SHIELD,” he said, a matter-of-fact statement when most people were impressed. She looked at him and was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one struggling with huge tear droplets. 

“With Howard,” she replied. “He looked for you for so long-” 

“I know,” Steve said. “Tony told me.” 

“I knew him when he was a child,” Peggy said, slightly wistful. “He used to torment my girls.” 

“How many?” Steve asked, and Peggy sighed and took a long drink from her tea to keep herself from moving from tearing up to something harder, something that would preclude her from talking. 

“Two,” she replied, finally. “Rosalyn and Charlotte - Rosalyn is a stay-at-home mother, I believe they’re called now, though she went to college and met her husband there. Charlotte is a doctor - Juliana is her daughter.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Steve said. Peggy glanced down, wondering if her daughters would say that. 

“Yes,” Peggy said finally. At first, she had thought the children she and Steve would have together would have been beautiful and golden and strong, but then she realized that just as an amputee wouldn’t have children missing the same limb, Steve might have imbued the health troubles from before the syndrome onto his children. Or perhaps not, perhaps it changed his DNA, his sperm - it didn’t matter. She would have loved them so much. 

They sat in silence for a moment, and Peggy noted that neither of them had yet to mention Henry, which was just as well. Instead, Steve said, obliquely, “I’m glad you were...happy.” 

“I suppose I was,” Peggy replied. “But even with...I could still never stop thinking about what I could - should have - had. And don’t you dare apologize, Steve, because you had to do what you did.” 

He shook his head, and Peggy couldn’t stand to see the tears fall loosely from his eyes. She leaned forward and brushed at one and gave him a smile. “We can sit here and re-imagine it all, but it won’t...this is what we have.” For a moment, she thought that she might kiss him - and could tell he was considering it, as well - but she leaned back into her seat. It was something else that wouldn’t make anything better, wouldn’t change anything. 

“I know,” Steve said, and Peggy braced herself. “Everyone is gone, except - and I’m stuck, here, like this, I’m not even myself.” He waved his hand across his chest, and for a moment Peggy was taken back to when the chamber had opened and Steve had stepped out, his white shirt so tight across him it looked like it might burst.

“That’s not true,” she said. “You are yourself. Just in different packaging.” 

“Maybe changing everything was too much,” he replied. “I lost the life I was supposed to have, and so-” 

She shook her head. “You can’t think like that. I know.” 

“Oh.” Steve said, and looked down, and then looked up, his eyes clear. “Peggy.” 

“You will be fine, Steve. You will be happy.” Peggy gave him a soft smile, wondering if maybe she should have confessed to Steve earlier - though it wasn’t like he was harboring any illusions of them spending another ten, twenty years together.

“You say that like you won’t...”

“I have cancer,” she replied. “The doctor says six months, maybe.” 

“You look well,” Steve said, almost protesting.

Peggy shrugged. “SHIELD has very good health insurance as part of its retirement package. I’ve found their palliative care excellent, even if the choice of nursing home...well, that’s neither here nor there.” 

“It’s not fair,” Steve said.

Because she didn’t think she could go into that, right now, emotionally, she decided to just deal with the statement as a comment on her immediate situation. “I’m ninety-seven, Steve. I have had a good life.” 

He gave her a soft smile and glanced off to the side, apparently attempting to hide the tears that were welling in his eyes again. There would have been plenty of heartbreak for them, too, Peggy thought - if he had survived in the ice like that, it would suggest that the serum prevented him from aging, or at least slowed it. That would make sense, given the healing abilities it had imbued him with. So he would have watched her get old, get sick, and die, while he remained perfect and the same.

Not that she would argue it was better the way it was.

* * * * *

**Betty**

Betty was relieved when it appeared that the argument had died down. She liked these women, but their presence made her feel silly - she had thought the impulse she had to come here, the feelings she had for Bruce had really meant something. Instead, it appeared to be the standard response to seeing a loved/ex-loved one on television fighting space aliens and saving the world.

She also wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that she was the only one here without a side kick. 

“It’s so tragic,” Darcy said, glancing in the direction that Steve and Peggy had headed. “It’s-”

“You have no idea,” Betty replied, and she felt bad, because she wasn’t snapping at the younger woman but the idea, “All of this is, except-” she gestured at her and Jane, “-it’s not some great love story. It actually happened.” 

Darcy looked her right in the eye, which raised Betty’s estimation of her considerably. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.” 

“Poor grandmum,” Juliana said.

“She seems to be in good health,” Jane offered.

Jane made a small sound as Juliana shook her head. “No, she’s got maybe six months - I know, she looks good, right? But everything inside is covered in cancer. It’s why mum and dad moved her to the assisted living facility...” 

As she stared at the wall across from her, Bruce entered the room, wringing his hands and doing his best not to fidget. “Betty? I would suggest we take a walk, but...” he shrugged. “Everyone else - maybe we can find somewhere and..?” 

“Absolutely,” she said, and glanced at the other three. Jane nodded at her, and gave her a slight smile. Betty felt for her, because she could tell from the way the woman was teasing her teeth across her lower lip and darting her eyes around the room that it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow bridges for her. Betty understood - she knew that loving these people came with a lot of baggage.

They settled in a room that contained several paintings Betty knew she should be able to identify the artist of, with Bruce once again choosing a space across from her. Which one of them was constructing the necessity for distance between them? Which one of them was enforcing it? 

“Have you settled everything, about this Agent-”

“Coulson,” Bruce said, leaning forward towards her. “He started the Avengers Initiative - he was apparently responsible for making sure everything went smoothly when I skipped into Mexico and then Brazil...I only met him, briefly, though.” 

“Everyone else has a much more personal connection, it seems,” Betty replied.

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “You’re not an impulsive person, Betty,” he said, voice soft.

Betty chewed at the interior of her cheek, for a moment, not sure the best way to answer this. “No,” she said. “Though this might be one of the more impulsive things I’ve done. Maybe right under running off with you from Culver...it seems you bring out that side of me, Dr. Banner.” She smiled as she called him that, recalling those first weeks when they had tentatively danced around each other with mumbled, flirtatious comments. She hadn’t been impulsive, then, she had been so concerned about what reputation she might get in the department from immediately going after the star male academic. In the end, Bruce had been the one to gently kiss her as they walked back from the Faculty Welcome dinner for the science department. 

“Well,” Bruce said, then, “sorry.” 

“I had to,” she replied, having finally put together a response, though perhaps not consciously. “There was no way, from television, how I would know if you were...and who would I ask? I had to make sure.” 

“Because you think this is your fault..?” Bruce asked, and Betty wrinkled her brow and thought, _damn him,_ but not that it was unexpected. 

“Because I care for you, Bruce,” Betty replied. “I always will.” 

Bruce bit at the inside of his lip and then gave her the soft, tentative smile that always tugged at her heartstrings. 

“Yeah?” Bruce said, and he met her eyes. “Me too.” He didn’t betray anything when he said that and that took her directly to the other side of their relationship - it was easy to romanticize things, with everything that happened, but there had been plenty of time when Bruce went from enigmatic to infuriating in how guarded he was.

“Good,” Betty said.

Bruce wrung his hands, looked at the floor, and then looked at her with a smile that seemed more bemused than anything. “So, it looks like I don’t need to...run anymore, right? Never thought SHIELD would be the one to defend the Other Guy...” he shrugged his shoulders. 

“And my father..?”

“Well, in addition to SHIELD - Tony has a friend who’s an Air Force Colonel, and he was on the phone with him for awhile yesterday...” Bruce shrugged.

“Where are you - what are you going to do?” Betty asked, furrowing her brow. 

“Tony offered, last night-”

“Of course he did,” Betty replied, and she didn’t know why she felt bitter, or, more accurately, like a little kid who wanted to shout that she had found Bruce first.

“For a start,” Bruce added. “And I don’t know. Do you know, about what you want?” 

Betty considered this for a moment, and had to smile slightly at Bruce. “No,” she replied. “I suppose I don’t.” 

“Besides,” Bruce said. “New York isn’t that far from Boston. I can take the Chinatown bus...”

“Didn’t a passenger cut their seat mate’s head off on one of those?” Betty asked. 

“That was Greyhound, in Canada,” Bruce said. “And, anyway, it wouldn’t so much matter, in my case...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Steve**

While Peggy went to take a nap, Steve went to the roof - besides the penthouse’s main room, it had the most damage of anything in the Tower. He found it strange that the Tower served as the locus for the alien invasion and yet the aliens had done little to try and destroy it, rather focusing on the surrounding buildings. Maybe Loki had taken a liking to it - that wouldn’t surprise Steve.

He hadn’t seen the devastation yet from an aerial view, and his breath hitched as he turned slowly. During the war there had been large HYDRA bases they had destroyed, cities that had been bombed and obliterated - but nothing like this. He could still see emergency crews trying to find and dig people out. He hadn’t really gone for a run that morning, rather, he had done his best to help the rescue effort - until he was derailed by a group of reporters who seemed to recognize him from yesterday’s fight and began to spit rapid fire questions at him about Loki, who the Avengers were, and demanding to know whether he was, indeed, _the_ Captain America.

Before Steve could answer two SHIELD agents - Sitwell, and another - gently guided him away and back towards the Tower. “I know you want to help, Captain,” Agent Sitwell told him. “But right now it’s a media firestorm - Loki, the nuclear weapon...it’s really best if you kept a low profile for the time being. We’ve got some PR people who are going to figure out how-”

“PR?” Steve asked.

“Like propaganda,” the other SHIELD agent said, and Steve had sighed, remembering the cameramen who had followed him and the Commandos around to capture what the cameramen termed _escapades_. It had taken a lot for Steve not to grab the man by the collar and inform him that all of this was very, very real.

He sighed, and sat down so that his legs dangled off the end of the Tower. A thought flittered through the back of his head and then, for a frightening moment, came to the forefront - would this fall be enough to kill him? Or would he heal, totally, or partially, some mangled thing attached to machines? Steve had to shake his head, remembering what Bruce had said on the Helicarrier. He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t, he was...it was just that...

“It’s a pretty sobering view,” said a soft, nervous female voice, and Steve turned to see Juliana standing awkwardly behind him. She gave him a smile.

“You want to sit down?” Steve asked, and she nodded. 

“I thought you might like someone to talk to,” she said. Everyone had filtered off into groups after it was decided that Natasha and Clint would go talk to Coulson and then, most likely, go speak to Fury. Tony had insisted that he be part of the airing of grievances, but Natasha had shut him down quickly - _I’m sure I can find a way to convey your displeasure, Stark,_ she said. So Tony had gone off with Pepper to speak to his friend Colonel Rhodes over something called Skype, and Bruce had gone with Betty, and Thor and Jane had gone into the kitchen. Steve presumed Juliana had wandered off with Darcy - and weren’t they lucky, to just be on the periphery of this? 

“Sure,” Steve said, and he felt a tightness build in his chest that reminded him of his old asthma attacks, of the way that Bucky would talk to him calmly as he tried to regain his breath, of the one time when Bucky had gently rubbed his back and put his head so it was right near Steve’s ear - and what had Steve done for him? Since the invasion, it seemed he was reliving that moment with increased frequency, watching Bucky tumble whenever he closed his eyes.

Juliana’s hand was on his shoulder. “It’s OK,” she said. “It happens, when you...when things happen.” 

“The serum took care of all of that,” Steve said, and he frowned, because he didn’t mean for his voice to be that clipped.

Juliana shook her head. “No, anxiety attacks, PTSD - it’s prevalent in a lot of soldiers, coming back from...” she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not a clinical professional, I’m not qualified to say anything, really. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, and he studied her face. There was a little Peggy there, mostly in her eyes, but there were other people as well - the husband that they never mentioned, Peggy’s daughter.

“You can ask whatever you want,” Juliana said. 

“I don’t even know you.”

“It’s OK,” she replied. “You kind of saved the world.”

“That was Tony,” Steve replied, and he sort of snorted - because look how he had set that up, and how it had worked out? He might not have been able to handle another death on his hands - but, on the other hand, the feeling of relief that Tony had lived almost burned. He was never going to win.

“Semantics,” Juliana replied, and arched an eyebrow at him. She pulled a flask from her purse, which was pure Peggy. Steve closed his eyes for a moment - Peggy had almost smelled the same, but there were other things that had accumulated over what he remembered. He wished one thing had stayed the same. “Do you want some?”

“Can’t get drunk.”

“It’s really nice,” she said, “I stole it from Mr. Stark.” She grinned softly at him before taking another swig.

“Was she happy?” he asked.

“I think so,” Juliana said, “but I know her as...I mean, later, you know? My mum will disparage her, sometimes - no, don’t worry, she never did anything bad. Mum just says that she was...cold, sometimes, distant, and she seemed a lot more focused on work than on kids. Mum thinks she might have only had kids because grandpa wanted them. But she was a great grandmum - I used to love spending time with her as a kid, and still do. I think by then...” Juliana looked straight ahead as she trailed off. 

“I guess it’s flattering,” Steve said, not really sure what other response would be appropriate - until he came up with, “Fuck.” 

“Pretty much,” Juliana said. “I think right now I’m supposed to tell you something, like, everything happens for a reason, but that’s bullshit. This is fucked up - I’m sorry.” 

Steve gave her a slight smile - she was the first person who had admitted it, outright. He was tired of trying to find a reason for things. 

“Or, like Forrest Gump said, _shit happens,_ ” she replied.

“Who?” Steve asked.

“Oh,” Juliana replied. “You don’t have any pop cultural references, do you? How do you understand anything Mr. Stark says?” 

“I get a few references, every now and again,” Steve said, and he felt tired - there was no point in probing, here, because he was just going to have more things to add to his sketch of all these people...he had definite outlines, certainly. It was the details that were lacking, and they weren’t essential to understanding the picture. “Where’s Darcy?”

“I think she was taking a nap as well,” Juliana said. “You want to get something to eat? Provided that the kitchen isn’t the grounds of some contentious discussion.”

“Sure,” Steve said. “Contentious?” 

“Dr. Foster didn’t look too happy - and I thought, from what Darcy said, that she had spent months looking for this guy, er, god, or whatever,” she amended, seeing Steve’s expression, “and then he’s back and...”

“Well, it’s not like he just walked down his rainbow bridge with some alien flowers in hand,” Steve said, and Juliana grinned at him.

Steve stood and offered her his hand.

* * * * *

**Clint**

“He’s still in critical condition,” the doctor said, looking at Clint with a degree of concern. Natasha walked behind him, her movements careful, and Clint was sure she was assessing everything in the hospital. “He was stabbed through the left lung, and damage was also done to his stomach and heart. And there are also issues with his spine. We’ve performed two surgeries and have done everything we can - now, we have to wait.” 

“My favorite part,” Clint said.

“Are you alright, Mr. Coulson?” the doctor asked, and Clint glared at him - what did he think? 

When they had first doctored the paperwork, listing Clint as Coulson’s spouse, Natasha had actually laughed at Clint and told him that he would have a difficult time playing the part. Clint knew that he didn’t need to point out to her that she had really failed to gauge the situation. 

“Is he awake?” Clint asked.

“Yes, but he’s quite sedated from pain medications. We’ve just taken him off the respirator.” He turned as he came to the door to the ICU room. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s immediate family-”

“She’s his daughter,” Clint said. 

“Right, my apologies,” said the doctor. “There are quite a few tubes and monitors. I just want you to be prepared.” Clint nodded - he had hoped that the doctor would make reference to whatever they were told had stabbed Coulson through his chest. On the way over, he and Natasha had realized that they had no idea what cover story SHIELD could plausibly come up with outside of something from _Bizarre ER_. In the end, they had come up with the story that Phil Coulson was on a sailing adventure with his husband and daughter when he was speared through the chest with a piece of the boat, because of a whole variety reasons.

Clint sighed - he knew he shouldn’t be making light of the situation, but he was starting to feel giddy from lack of sleep. He knew he was only allowed to make light of these things once it was clear Coulson would recover. 

“What about his spine?” Natasha asked. 

“We’re not entirely sure yet - it’s going to be a matter of time,” the doctor replied. Clint twisted his lip - sneaky bastard. As much as he hated the entire SHIELD medical staff, they at least had the decency not to lie or obscure facts. “Let me know if you have any other questions.”

“Everyone lies,” Natasha said, once he walked out.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of _House_ ,” Clint replied - it was, in fact, exactly the sort of television that Natasha hated. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?” 

“You made a joke,” she said, and then opened the door to the ICU and stepped inside. She swore in Russian before Clint could get through the door. _Quite a few tubes and monitors_ was an understatement - there were multiple chest tubes, a tube for the wound in Coulson’s stomach, several drains, and a central catheter in addition to the IVs in both of his arms. One of the fringe benefits of being a SHIELD agent - you got to learn a whole lot about the various medical procedures and items used to treat traumatic injuries. The room was filled with the dull beeping sound that made Clint go back to when he had been the one in the hospital bed and previous stints by Nat, Phil, and Fury’s bedsides. This, however, was the most serious injury he had faced.

“Hey, Boss,” he said, and was pleased that the ICU featured somewhat comfortable chairs. Natasha slid onto the couch at the other side of the bed and uncharacteristically pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It made her look young.

Coulson’s eyes fluttered and then opened, and Clint couldn’t help but smile. Coulson looked at Clint, and then Natasha, and a hint of a smile came across his severely chapped lips. Clint took an ice chip from the bedside table and carefully rubbed it across Coulson’s lips, letting a few precious droplets of water into his mouth. No doubt, with the stomach wound, all food and liquid would be entering via IVs for some time. “I thought I died,”  
Coulson said.

“We did too,” Natasha said. “Welcome back.” No one said anything for a moment, so she made a soft coughing sound - Clint often forgot how awkward Natasha could be, in some situations, though it seemed to be getting better each year. “Though Barton still holds the record.”

“I was just missing,” Clint replied.

“You fell off of a forty story building,” Natasha replied. “Your status was changed to deceased for three days. You need to stop doing that, by the way.”

“Again?” Coulson asked, and it sounded like his words had to make it past sandpaper to get out.

“I used a grappling hook this time,” Clint said.

“It took an hour and a half to pick all of the glass out of you,” Natasha replied. Clint had forgot that he was covered in stitches, butterfly strips, and liquid bandage until Natasha pointed it out just then.

“Was going to say,” Coulson said, “Didn’t think you had anything with long sleeves.” 

Clint had to glance away - he had been able to hold everything in, until now, and he forced himself to twist and contort his lips rather than let himself cry. He knew it would never get beyond this room, hell, Natasha’s eyes were a little moist too.

“Phil, I - I am so sorry.” 

“No,” Coulson said. “No apologies.”

“But I - if I hadn’t-”

“Could have been any of us,” Coulson said. “I saw you on TV - how did you..?”

“Natasha hit me really hard in the head,” Clint said. He was pretty sure he was concussed - and, wasn’t that convenient? It made an excellent excuse for why he hadn’t slept. 

“Good,” Coulson replied. “Hadley?” Clint looked down - it had been Natasha who remembered to call Coulson’s boyfriend because Clint had been too consumed by everything else. Clint felt bad. He liked Hadley.

“On his way,” Natasha said. “I called him.”

“And...the team?” 

“Didn’t get along at first,” Natasha said, and from what she had told Clint, this was a gross understatement. “But...in the end, it was just like you wanted, well, like you said it would be.” 

“Because I died,” Coulson said, and a real smile played across his lips as he had chuckled. 

Clint had preferred to listen to Coulson talk about the Initiative and his goals for it, unlike Natasha, who read all of the ponderous reports Coulson produced that were littered with words like _goal driven orientation_ and _consummation of team dynamic_. Coulson knew that it would take something to make all of them decide to work together - besides Captain America, each of them had largely worked, or, in the case of Banner, struggled as individuals in the past. Clint wondered how Coulson would feel when he found out that it was his hero who had been one of the two men who had really needed the push his death had provided. Clint wondered if Steve was different, now, if he might have been the one leading them towards unity if he had never been put on ice. Clint, fairly adept at picking it out because of his chosen occupation, could smell the PTSD on the other man.

“Well, you told Director Fury we needed a push,” Natasha said. “Something to avenge.” 

“Nice how that worked out,” Clint added, because he’d been waiting to say it out loud.

“Loki?” Coulson asked, and Clint felt a distinct shiver vibrate down his spine - maybe when it finally got to the point where he heard the name uttered in derision and contempt in equal amounts to the times he had previously heard it uttered it with absolutely adoration and devotion, this reaction would cease.

“Director Fury is making promises to the WSC, but he is going to release him into Thor’s custody, likely tomorrow, to return to Asgard,” Natasha said.

“Tomorrow?” Coulson asked, clearly concerned.

Clint and Natasha looked at one another - how, exactly to phrase the fact that it was the Avenger’s personal lives that had led to Fury uncharacteristically granting the extension. 

“Some things have come up,” Clint said. Natasha looked down and pressed her lips together at him, and she was right, this was one of the things he was better at. “Betty Ross arrived at Stark Tower, from MIT - she was concerned that Banner had been captured and forced...and Jane Foster came in from Tromso, though she sent Darcy Lewis ahead of her to make sure Thor didn’t leave without her. Darcy says hello.”

“Did she ask where her iPod was?” Coulson asked. They’d been monitoring the intern’s e-mail as part of standard security procedures while she worked for Dr. Foster, and Darcy’s obsession with it had been a running joke between Coulson, Clint, and later Natasha.

“No,” said Clint. Clint felt himself relax, and when he looked at Natasha before meeting her eyes he confirmed that it was probably evident just from looking at him. Then Coulson made a joke, Coulson remembered a detail that most people would have lost in place of the latest Justin Bieber lyrics, Coulson would probably be OK. Well, Coulson would mentally be OK.

“And Peggy Carter says hello,” said Clint. “You never told me that she-” Well, Coulson sort of had, and everyone knew that he had been hand-selected and trained by one of the founders of SHIELD. 

“Where do you think I got all the stories from?” Coulson asked, and it made so much sense that Clint was surprised that he had never considered the possibility. “Is she...well?”

“Very,” Natasha said. “Hopefully once they get this immediate family only ban lifted she can come and tell you herself.” 

“Oh, right...” Coulson said, and his voice sounded a bit far-away. “How long have we been married, honey?”

“Four years,” Clint replied. “Typical, really, not remembering your own anniversary.” 

“We’re going to let you rest, Phil,” Natasha said. 

“OK,” Coulson said, and the smile on his face increased.

“Phil?” Clint asked, remembering the grin that had grown across another agent’s face as he died while Clint held him in a HYDRA base in Pakistan.

“Immediate family only...means Fury can’t come,” Coulson said, allowing Clint to exhale.

Natasha stood and approached Coulson. For a moment, it looked like she was going to squeeze his hand, but her eyes lingered on the IV that was in it. She gave a very slight shrug, bent over, and kissed his forehead. She did not meet Clint’s eyes as she darted past him. 

“We’ll come by this afternoon,” Clint said and realized that Natasha’s leaving hadn’t been all self-preservation. A kiss was a little too personal...so, instead, Clint brushed some of the hair off of Phil’s forehead and then pressed his hand to the other man’s cheek.

“OK,” Coulson said, his eyes closed.

Natasha was rigid against the wall outside of the room, legs bent like she was doing a strength training exercise. She was also shaking. Without even thinking, Clint pulled her up into a hug and held her tightly. 

“We’ll be OK,” he said, even though they wouldn’t - not in the traditional sense, at least, but as OK as could be expected for professional assassins. Super heroes, if they could be considered part of that club - if not, then, stupid people who thought they could fight alongside super heroes. 

“Yes, maybe,” Natasha replied, mostly into his shoulder, and even though he didn’t think it was possible, Clint held her tighter.

* * * * *

**Bruce**

“This is great news, Big Green,” Tony said. “No, wait, Jolly Green is more apt - do you like beans?”

“The canned ones? Not really,” Bruce replied. He had a lot of memories of them from childhood, associations with dinners where plates were thrown and accusations hurtled...

“Well, anyway, this is great news, I didn’t really think you’d accept.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t have to-” Bruce glanced down at Tony’s workshop desk, amazed at the variety of little pieces and projects that were lying around. The ten floors of R&D had been relatively unscathed and pretty much everything that Bruce imagined they would be and more. 

“No, I would like it. A lot,” Tony said, and there was a transparent eagerness in the way he was speaking that was unexpected and...sort of cute, Bruce thought, and he glanced down in an effort to conceal his blush. “I just figured, you know, given everything, you’d want...” 

“Well, when I spoke with Fury, he said...things, about being integral to the team, not just the Other Guy, but my-”

“Your brain, absolutely, and besides, I could use another genius. Makes things a lot less lonely, and more interesting - we can do _science_ together!” 

“Right,” Bruce said, and he met Tony’s eyes and couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t just the time he’d spent alone, on the run from the government after the Other Guy. Even before then he didn’t have the easiest time making friends. “So, he seemed to indicate I’d have some protection-”

“Fuck SHIELD protection, SI will take care of you,” Tony replied. “Even the U.S. Army quivers at the sight of a gaggle of corporate litigators, ready to slap them down with so many reams of paper-”

“Is that the correct term?” Bruce asked - and maybe Tony’s attitude was infectious. “I mean, do corporate lawyers come in a gaggle, or is it something else?”

“You’re right,” Tony said. “Barracudas come in a battery, and buzzards in a wake-” 

“Snakes in a nest, mosquitos in a scourge,” Bruce added. There were plenty of others, but those were the ones off the top of his head that worked. He gave a soft smile in response to the grin that had taken over Tony’s face.

“You know, _if_ you needed money, we could get you on Jeopardy,” Tony said. “And that would be great, like, Trebek gets a little sassy with you, Big Green comes out...” Bruce looked away. Was it appropriate, now, to make jokes about the Other Guy because he had helped once? Everyone aside from Natasha seemed to forget the incident on the Helicarrier. And what had he done, exactly? Followed Steve’s order to smash, which he would have done anyway, caught Tony when he was spiraling down from the sky. It wouldn’t really amount to much on the lecture circuit.

“Who knows? He might have a vast repository of sports knowledge that I’m missing,” Bruce replied, trying to keep his voice neutral and dry - he could do this.

“Hey,” Tony said, and he reached over and placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, which - Tony, besides Betty, had been the last person to touch him out of affection in so long, and here was another, longer, more lingering gesture. “I call this my night light, my flash light-” he tapped at his chest. “But like I said - terrible privilege, but to cope with that, you’ve got to...” 

“Have a sense of humor,” Bruce replied.

“Only psychological bullshit I’ve ever heard that I believe in,” Tony said. 

Bruce turned, aware of the sound of heels clicking on the floor. He glanced at Tony, not sure - he hadn’t talked to Pepper much, despite the obvious pleasantries, and it was clear that he had disrupted the dynamic between Tony and his girlfriend. Or, at least, played a role in it along with a nuclear warhead and some aliens.

“What did you think, Dr. Banner?” Pepper asked. Bruce was impressed by her ability to pull herself together so quickly into a sharp, geometric suit that probably cost as much as some of the research grants he used to receive. 

“It’s incredibly impressive,” he said. “I’m not used to private lab spaces, so-”

“We don’t have much of a focus on physics, let alone gamma radiation, currently,” Pepper said, leaning into Tony’s work desk so that she was across from Bruce, with Tony forming the point between them. “We do have space for that, though, don’t we, on seventy-four?”

“I was thinking all of seventy-four,” Tony replied, and Pepper smiled.

“You - you want to build me a lab..? That’s really too much, and I don’t need-” 

“Bruce, relax,” said Pepper. “I’m getting the paperwork drawn up, and, if you want, you’ll be employed as senior consultant for Stark Industries. This isn’t altruism or charity, it’s an incredibly sound business decision.” 

Tony raised his eyebrows and grinned at Bruce, who looked at Pepper, who smiled at him with a knowing look in her eye - so there had been some sort of discussion there, he presumed, and for now, at least things would be fine between them...and it was just jealousy, wasn’t it, compounded by the fact that Tony nearly died. Again. They were all - relatively - adults here.

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

“So you’re going to stay in the Tower, but you’re not going to play with any of my toys?” Tony asked. “That, Dr. Banner-”

“I never said I was...moving in,” Bruce managed. “Just, for a little bit, to see...” Tony gave him a slow nod that morphed into a little bit of a head roll, and Pepper made a coughing sound. So they were one of those couples - Bruce had to smile, slightly.

“Fine, fine, I get it - you’re not used to commitment, after everything, we can work with that,” Tony said, and lobbed his arm around Bruce’s shoulder. “Can’t we, Pepper?” 

“Absolutely,” Pepper said. “You also wanted me to remind you to tell Dr. Banner about the apartment you have near the MIT campus.” 

“Right, yes, of course,” Tony said, and began to walk with Bruce - he wasn’t sure where. “That’s the idea, right? You two and Betty seem a little less nervous around each other, which is great...”

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “I think we’re going with that. And, Ms. Potts - you can call me Bruce.” 

“Only if you call me Pepper,” she replied.

* * * * *

**Tony**

“Oh, look, another party in my kitchen - why do people always congregate in the kitchen when there is this whole big space _with a bar_ -”

“The food comes from this area,” Thor said, waving his hand around. He had a sandwich in his hand and a plate of macaroni and cheese in front of him that appeared to come from Darcy, who was actually doing dishes in his sink. 

“Nice,” Tony said, glancing at her as he leaned in the doorway. “Putting your college skills to work - I didn’t even know I had food” He had done a walk-about - some might call it perimeter search - of the area since the afternoon, when the assassins had returned and updated them on the plan for dealing with the errant Norse god sitting in the depths of the Helicarrier. Thor had pressed his lips together and nodded, solemn, and had not given any indication as to what punishment would await Loki besides the fact that it would be _most severe,_ given his recent history.

“I’m sorry, we were sort of scrounging around for something to eat-” 

“It brings back some good memories,” Juliana said - she had a small dish in front of her, and Tony noted that what he had initially thought was sparkling water was, indeed, gin and tonic. Tony wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Peggy Carter’s plucky grand-daughter. As much as she was lurking on the sidelines, he couldn’t help but feel that she had some kind of agenda.

“Well, don’t spoil your appetite,” he said. “I’ve ordered pizza to come in two hours.” He paused, looking at Thor as he finishing his sandwich and then set in on the macaroni and cheese. 

“That sounds lovely,” Peggy said, and he turned to see her leaning into Steve as his arm wrapped around hers. Tony smiled at her, and even given everything that had happened between him and Steve - it was difficult to see the two of them, like that, when Tony had clear memories of pictures of the two of them that hung in Howard’s study. Given that it made him feel a little bit of a stabby pang, he couldn’t imagine what Steve was going through. “We’re going to go and sit in your living area. I thought we might watch a movie.” 

“See?” Tony said, “Making good use of the space, that’s a great idea - not some old black and white movie, right?” Peggy arched an eyebrow at him and then followed Steve towards the couch in front of Tony’s largest television. He sighed. 

“Movie? Anyone else? Even if it is Captain Star Spangled Man’s choice?” 

Darcy shrugged, and glanced at Juliana - and, oh, that was interesting, Tony thought. “OK,” she said, and the two of them gathered their drinks - Darcy appeared to have a rum and coke - and headed for the living room.

Tony went over to the dishes Darcy had left and tried to remember where the dishwasher was located - which, not shameful, this whole living in the Tower thing was new! “How are you doing, Big Guy?” he asked, as Thor scooped the macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

Thor looked up at him, eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you ask that as a jape?”

“I’m sorry..?”

“My brother has attempted to subjugate your realm, killed many of its inhabitants, and profoundly damaged one of its most vibrant cities. Countless families and friendships have been destroyed, and in his madness, he accuses me of letting him fall into the abyss.” 

Tony turned and looked at Thor, a little surprised that he was the one who was going to get to hear the vocalization of this - surely someone, anyone, was better. Pepper! She had been known to serve this role with Tony, when he was a little intoxicated and actually felt like talking about things might make it - and Bruce knew what to do about feelings, it seemed, and Steve was so...Steve, he would nod along and pout a little bit to indicate that he _understood_ what Thor was going through. Tony glanced around, hopeful for relief, and then sighed. He pulled a chair, turned it backwards, and faced Thor.

“What about the abyss?” 

Thor recounted what happened as he battled Loki during his first genocide attempt - Tony couldn’t get over that, how many were given the opportunity to commit multiple genocides? “I held him, and promised him - and he let go. He let himself fall. And then, as we reunite, it is clear he believes that I let him go.” Thor looked down and shook his head.

“That is pretty shitty,” Tony said. He wasn’t surprised, though.

“Indeed,” Thor said, looking up at Tony and seeming bemused. Then he sighed. “When I was first banished to this realm I was provided for, despite my arrogant demeanor, by the Lady Jane and Darcy and Dr. Selvig. We became friends, over a time, and there were moments where I thought perhaps my punishment would be...tolerable. And now, I look back at my time spent here, and I have done nothing but bring chaos and destruction.” 

“Oh, well, hey! I can work with that,” Tony said, pushing his chair closer. “I can tell you a story about someone who brought lots of chaos and destruction, but came to learn...” he trailed off, and then provided a fairly disjointed summary for Thor of what he had been like, and what happened to him, and even though in these rare instances where he opened up, he never included Obadiah, but he did for Thor. It was hard not to, despite the seriousness of his statements and emotional inquiry, Tony couldn’t help but feel that Thor looked like a kicked labrador - well, golden retriever - puppy. 

“You are a good man, Anthony Stark,” Thor said, and reached out and clasped Tony’s hand. “I value your friendship, and your counsel.” 

“Great,” Tony said, and then it hit him - this wasn’t just about what happened with the aliens and the obstinate little twit of a brother and space and dimension traveling implements- “If I’m being too presumptuous here, stop me - it’s been known to happen, and somehow it doesn’t really work out all that well for me, but - things didn’t go very well with the Lady Jane, did they?” 

“The time we spent together was near magical,” Thor said. “Our connection was strong - but, with everything that has occurred, it appears that...the initial joy that has carried her through to our reunion has dampened considerably. She now needs some time to _think about some things._ SHIELD is taking her to see Dr. Selvig right now and then she will be back to Norway.” 

Tony pressed his lips together - this was not a good time to be Thor, because now, right on top of his shit sundae was a break-up with a very small, very intelligent woman that Tony had hoped to try to employ. 

“Well, that’s pretty shitty, too,” Tony said.

“I have experienced love and loss before,” Thor said. “And perhaps it is silly to dwell on one evening, one kiss...”

“No, given the circumstances, you’re fine. You know what we do here, in Midgard, when this happens?” Tony said, and he plastered a grin on his face. “We drink. You want to drink? We haven’t really drank yet, and this is the sort of event where...well, we deserve a drink or two, right?” 

“Aye,” Thor said, though his nod was solemn. 

Clint was not keen to eat with the others - he felt like they were inspecting him, looking at all of his cracks and flaws and just waiting for him to fall apart. Or maybe he was projecting. Not that he didn’t have respect for Natasha, but now he had more, given what she had gone through - how she had managed to pull herself back together, and maybe she wasn’t the same person, but she was a good person. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

So, not keen to eat with the others, he was less than pleased that his ability to consume pizza was conditional on sitting down with these people - the Avengers - and their various entourage members and watching movies. This feeling was lessened when he realized that movies meant a lot less talking and he saw that Stark had pulled out a decent case of beer from somewhere. 

Clint cracked it open on the coffee table and shrugged at the withering look that he got. Natasha curled into one of the overstuffed chairs, commandeering it in a catlike manner, and began to slowly eat her pizza. If she was doing this thing, he had no excuse for not doing it.

“Team bonding is important, right, Captain?” Stark asked.

“We did that yesterday,” Steve said. “With the meat.”

“Shawarma, which I found delicious,” Stark said, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to be our leader-”

“Since when?” Steve asked, and Clint had to look away when Peggy gave him a soft smile. They were seated on the same couch, but there was the width of another person between them. He felt bad, using them as an example to try and make himself feel better - _it could be worse._ There might be some debate over whether it really was worse. Clint was going to have to see how things played out once he cleared the SHIELD psych test - and it said a lot, that he shouldn’t be judged too harshly, given that there was a standardize done for being compromised - and he got to walk amongst agents whose friends, lovers, partners and other assorted relationships he had helped kill.

He inhaled - that would be later. Right now he just needed to get through this, prove to these people that he wasn’t some withered shell leftover from... “There’s a seat here, Agent Barton.”

He looked over, not surprised to see that it was Jane Foster’s intern who was making the offer. She was wearing a dress, as well, loose fitting but a dress nonetheless, and it also looked like she had some makeup on. Clint wanted to say no, to tell her that, as good of a make-out session it was, it was still just that - but then again, why not? She would be gone tomorrow. “Thanks,” he said, and slid next to her on the couch.

“What you two missed was the debate we’re having about an appropriate movie to watch - we watched the _Wizard of Oz,_ for the ol - those two, over there,” Stark said, and he waved his hand in Steve and Peggy’s direction, “and, given the circumstances, we’ve decided we’d like something more uplifting.”

Clint followed Darcy’s gaze over to Thor, who was seated on the other side of Steve Rogers - his tiny scientist was notably absent, and Darcy’s gaze and the pity in her eyes indicated that things hadn’t really worked out for the two of them. _Too bad,_ Clint thought, _guy doesn’t seem to have much luck, right now, for someone with a magic hammer._

“Something lighthearted, something fun, something unobjectionable-” Tony said, glancing at Steve again, and Clint couldn’t help but think if that was criteria for watching movies with the Captain, and they were going to keep doing this in the future, they were going to have a severely limited selection from which to work with. So many films seemed to really enjoy touching on the tragic, doomed lovers thing.

“ _The Princess Bride,_ ” Darcy said, as Tony droned on about something. She glanced over at Clint and shrugged her shoulders. “I dare you to find something objectionable about that movie! Mormons are allowed to watch it!” 

“Really?” Clint asked, and Darcy nodded. 

“One of my friends from high school was Mormon - she and her brothers could, like, quote the entire movie because it was one of the few they were allowed watch as kids.” She smiled at Clint, and he remembered the way she had moved against him as they grew closer, drinking and talking. He sighed. 

“Excellent choice - JARVIS, we have that, right? It’s one of Pepper’s favorites,” Tony said, and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Whenever he says that, it means he likes it, but doesn’t want to admit.” Pepper said. A few people chuckled. Bruce drew a little closer to Betty on the massive couch they were sitting on with Tony and Pepper. Here we go, thought Clint, we are making jokes and we are becoming a team. 

Clint opened another beer on the coffee table and sucked it down during the opening credits. He had actually never seen the movie, and was surprised to find that he was sufficiently sucked into the world that he stopped dwelling on what had happened and on what he had done. He was relieved that Darcy didn’t make any movement towards him, other than handing him a beer when he ran out and didn’t realize it.

He got quietly drunk and didn’t realize it until he stood up and swayed slightly when the movie, and then the next movie - _Ghostbusters_ \- was over. Natasha was immediately at his side, smiling as she ducked under his arm to steady him. “Bedtime, Barton,” she said, glancing around the room. 

_Stop judging me,_ Clint thought, and then he sighed and leaned into Natasha a little bit more. 

When they were in the hallway, headed towards the bedroom they were sharing, he said, “Do you think they think we’re sleeping together?”

“We are, aren’t we?” Natasha asked, as he settled down on the bed. She carefully removed his socks.

“You know what I mean,” he replied.

“Well, we have,” she said. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Clint said, because it was sort of flattering, if people thought that he was sleeping with Natasha. “I just think they...think it.” 

“This is going to be all right, Clint,” Natasha said, as he fumbled to get his own pants off. Normally Natasha slept naked, but tonight she had a men’s t-shirt on - likely Stark’s, possibly Steve’s, because he likely carried any and all necessary supplies everywhere with him. She curled up behind him, wrapping herself around him - and this might be the only time that Clint allowed himself to be the little spoon.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“One moment at a time,” Natasha whispered in his ear. “And always face forward.” 

* * * * * 

**Steve**

Steve couldn’t sleep - there were dreams to contend with, and while he waited for them he would lay in his bed and he would think about what should have been and what he should have had. He let himself cry, thinking that it might help, since his mother had always told him that getting everything out in a good cry would mean a dreamless night. Maybe it worked better when he believed in it. 

He walked the Tower twice, trying to determine where various people had ended up and to make sure that they were, at least, sleeping soundly. Juliana and Peggy were sharing a room that had two large, full size beds, Clint and Natasha were sleeping together, and Steve was sort of pleased when he realized Bruce and Betty had moved into the same room - at least one of their stories didn’t have to end tragically. Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty - but he couldn’t think of a fairy tale to apply to Thor. He didn’t think there was one where the two lovers were separated when one had to return to deal with their asshole of an adopted brother whose recent attempt at a second species wide genocide had fallen through.

As he thought about this, he realized Thor was unaccounted for - the god was typically easy to detect, since there was little he seemed to do quietly.

Steve knew where Thor was if he wasn’t in his room, and he stepped out onto the roof and just watched Thor as he stood against the precipice. This was where he had pleaded with Loki, the second time - Thor’s capacity for forgiveness, for love, was truly admirable. This was where Loki had brought him into an embrace and stabbed him. Or, at least, that was what JARVIS’ footage as interpreted by the SHIELD agent responsible for summarizing all of it had shown. 

“Can’t sleep?” Steve asked after a moment, when he realized that Thor had Mjolnir by his side. Steve couldn’t blame him. A midnight flight around the city was a bit better than walking the perimeter of the Tower. 

“No,” Thor said, “And I am sorry to say it is comforting to know I am not alone in my position, Captain.”

Steve approached him, and tilted his head up slightly - Thor was one of the few people he had encountered, lately, who was a good deal taller than he was. “Steve,” he said. “Really, you can call me Steve.”

“Steven Rogers,” Thor said, not looking at him. “It is a good, solid name.” 

“I suppose so,” Steve replied. “Though, I wasn’t particularly solid for a long time.” 

“I inferred from your discussion with Tony Stark that you were not always present in this form.” Steve shook his head.

“Discussion is one word for it,” he said. “No, I was...injected with a serum, that made me like this. I used to be as tall as Natasha and probably thinner, with every health problem they’d discovered at the time...and probably some ones they found out about later.” 

“Well,” Thor said, “it is good to hear of such things - that such a gift was wisely given. The Lady Peggy, did she know you..?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “She was part of that program, she...” he sighed, and added, “She was always so kind, and I knew...I knew she was a good woman, and maybe that we were even friends. But she didn’t look at me - she never looked at me, and then when I emerged from the chamber after the experiment and - I can still see her face, and it seemed like she was thinking, _finally._ ” 

Thor turned and looked Steve up and down. “Sometimes, the heart and the cock want different things.” He paused, and winced slightly, “Or, in the Lady Peggy’s case-”

“Yes,” Steve said, reddening even though he managed to cut Thor of. “That’s very true.” 

They were quiet for what seemed like several minutes, and then finally Thor sat down as Steve had, legs dangling off of the roof. He leaned back on his arms and glanced at Steve. “I only intend to stay in Asgard as long as it takes to mete justice to Loki. Then I shall return.” 

Steve considered this. “Are you sure?” He couldn’t imagine having the opportunity to go home and not taking it.

“Right now, it is a place haunted by the memory of a brother I no longer have,” Thor said. He gestured over the ruins of Midtown, still illuminated by red emergency lights and a few smoldering fires, likely from the homeless trying to keep warm. “There is much for me to do here, amends that I need to make.” He looked at Steve and smiled slightly. “Companions who could use my aid.” 

“Mjolnir is useful in a pinch,” Steve said, smiling back at him. At first, he wasn’t sure why he was pleased with the idea of Thor returning, and then it hit him - he was new to this world as well.

“Yes,” Thor said. “Are you well, Steve?” 

Steve looked down at his feet for a moment - no one had really asked him, besides Peggy’s granddaughter. Instead, they had glanced at him and communicated their sympathy and, in some cases, empathy, but didn’t want to get too close for fear that it might be catching. “When I woke up...once I was out of SHIELD, they gave me an apartment and a bank account and I just walked around the City and...nothing was the same, even though some of it, ostensibly, was.” Thor nodded. “They gave me everyone’s file, and they were all gone...except Peggy. And I didn’t call her.”

“I am sure it felt right for you at the time,” Thor said.

“I was too scared,” Steve said. “Having her, out of everyone, it just made it...I knew if I talked to her I would only feel more alone.” It was the ability, he realized, to speak to an intangible. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” said Thor, and, trite as it was, Steve was fairly certain that he heard thunder rumbling somewhere off in the distance. “But you must realize, Steven - Steve. Now, you are not alone.” 

It would have been corny coming from everyone else, but in Thor’s antiquated English accent it was comforting. Steve nodded, slightly, then leaned back on his arms as well and looked out into the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

**Darcy**

Darcy ran her hands down her new shadow-government issue suit skirt and smiled slightly at Coulson - she hadn’t wanted to seem like a suck-up on her first day, not to mention she wasn’t even sure if Coulson remembered her. Though she had kicked him in the shin when he tried to take Jane’s things. 

“It’s good to see you again, sir,” she said. He gave her a slight smile, and so she decided it time to go for it. “I was just wondering - where is my iPod?”

“I believe Agent Barton was put in charge of all materials not directly relating to Dr. Foster’s research,” Coulson said. “Perhaps you and he have a similar taste in music.”

Clint - Agent Barton - Darcy corrected herself, because he was the other supervisor of their SHIELD intake group’s one week introductory training, rolled his eyes. She couldn’t really be brown-nosing if the other recruits hadn’t even arrived, though, right? 

“After all that,” Clint said, leaning against the desk in the front of the room, “you want to do this.”

“Don’t know if you noticed,” Darcy said. “Economy out there? Not so great. Super-secretive extra-governmental organizations, sort of the only ones hiring.” She ducked her head at his stern look, composed her face, and said, “Yes, Agent Barton sir, I do very much want to do this.” 

“Good,” Clint said, and glanced over at Coulson. “They coming?” Coulson nodded, and so Darcy took her seat - strategically selected to be in the middle of the room, so she was neither one of the slackers from the back or a gunner in the front. Juliana settled two seats over from her, raising her eyebrows. At least Darcy wasn’t alone - and, really, how did SHIELD recruit, anyway? They certainly hadn’t been at Culver’s career fair...

Coulson wheeled to the front of the room - Darcy hadn’t wanted to pry, but from what she had overheard, no one was entirely sure if his spinal injuries would heal - and he and Clint affected very stern looks as fifteen or so other recent college graduates or retired military recruits filtered into the room, all in the same black suit. 

“Good morning, recruits,” Coulson said. Clint shoved his hands in his pockets. Darcy wondered if they’d decided, beforehand, who was going to be the hard ass or if they were going to alternate. “My name is Agent Coulson, and this is Agent Barton. We are both Senior Operatives with SHIELD. Until you have completed this training module, you will be addressed as Recruit and then your last name. Is this clear?”

“Yes, sir!” belted the eleven people who had presumably been culled from the military. Darcy glanced, as subtly as possible, at Juliana, who was smirking a little bit. 

“Good,” Coulson said, without prompting the rest of them, and it allowed Darcy to relax slightly. 

* * *

“Nothing against...I mean, support our troops, and I’m very...you know,” Darcy said, sitting in the backseat of the van that was driving them over to the firing range - the military and non-military recruits had quickly separated into cliques, and apparently forming a unified block against the civilians was enough to get the ex-Army and ex-Air Force recruits to get along. “It’s just, they’re a little...you know?” 

She hoped she wasn’t going out on a limb upon and be ostracized from everyone. The only reason she had even put the thought out into the silence was because she knew from watching movies about military basic training that the only way she would get out alive and successful was if she bonded with the ragtag group of misfits.

“Well, they are military,” said Recruit Parish, who, in her introductory speech, revealed she had a PhD in chemistry. At age twenty-three. “Aren’t we sort of, now?”

“SHIELD is an extramilitary organization,” Juliana said, quoting verbatim from the handbook they’d been given, “drawing on the strength of civilians and those with military training...”

“Right, right, we get it, you have an eidetic memory,” Darcy said, and Juliana arched an eyebrow - presumably at the fact that Darcy knew the term. We don’t all have to go to the Ivy League to be smart, she thought, some of us just watch _Criminal Minds_ \- and she liked the other woman, she really did, but she could be a bit elitist. “Anyone ever shot a gun?” 

One of the other Recruits raised his hand - Darcy had forgot his name, but knew that he and one of the ex-Navy Seals had been making serious eyes at one another, and thank god for no more DADT because she was totally shipping it.

“We’ll be fine,” said the only other male in their group. “Agent Barton is supposed to be quite the proficient marksmen.” Darcy knew she wasn’t going to like him, since he seemed smug about knowing this tiny bit of information.

“With a bow and arrow,” Juliana said, and then pursed her lips when she realized her slip-up - thanks to the fact he had spent much of the Battle of Manhattan perched on a rooftop, Clint had escaped press and public notice. Only a few websites had people who wondered where all the fucking high-tech arrows had come from. 

The other recruits regarded her, and she shrugged. “Is that not widely known?” she asked. _Whatever,_ she said to Darcy the night before, _Carter is a fairly common surname, but they’ll connect it eventually._ She and Darcy had been drinking their house-warming champagne, which was likely actual champagne, considering Pepper had got it from Tony’s wine cellar. It was probably also the most expensive liquid Darcy had ever consumed. 

A week later, in the middle of training, she and Juliana laughed about how all of the recruits were fairly certain that Juliana and Clint were fucking, since he kept looking at her. “More like he’s trying to tell me that he could shoot me at any moment if I fuck up-”

“Well, we’re all in danger of that,” Darcy interjected, and then, when her new friend - thanks, Avengers! - looked down, she realized Juliana had revealed something again. Girl needed to get a handle on herself if she was going to become a spy. “Spill it,” she said.

“Like, shoot me in a sort of shovel talk way?” Juliana said.

“Wait, what? I thought you didn’t like guys - wait, _what?_ ” Darcy asked. If it wasn’t Clint, it meant that it had to be-

“I went for drinks with Natasha, like, once - when she came back from wherever she went with Clint. And now she’s off for something again.” 

“Conveniently coinciding with the beginning of your SHIELD training,” Darcy said. She was a little tipsy, since some alcohol and her trusted hot water bottle were the best ways to soothe the regular aches and pains she now experienced, so she didn’t feel bad about prying. “Is she a natural redhead?” 

“Darcy Lewis!” Juliana said, and then blushed. “I have no idea.”

“I don’t believe you,” Darcy said.

“That’s fine,” Juliana said. 

“So that whole time...your grandma is having some sort of emotional catharsis, and you’re flopping around hoping to gain the attention of a certain hot Russian spy?”

“Like you wouldn’t,” Juliana said.

“I ship me with all the things,” Darcy replied.

* * *

Apparently the flag pole trick had been something that various groups had used on their recruits since before time was actually recorded. “Few people actually figure it out,” Coulson said, looking in the rear view mirror at Darcy. “Captain Rogers was one of them.” 

“I don’t think that...I’m really in the same...” Darcy managed, though she was totally filing this away for the future when - if - she got a chance to use a pick-up line on Captain America. “I was just too lazy to even think of climbing up that damn thing, and as I looked down in shame I noticed...” she shrugged, and Clint turned and grinned at her.

“Let’s try and keep our eyes on the road, Barton,” Coulson said. Darcy relaxed, slightly - she wasn’t sure if even in the closed confines of the car while the other recruits were jogging the remaining ten miles, she was going to be Recruit Lewis or if they were all going to acknowledge they actually sort of knew each other. 

“Acknowledged, sir,” Clint said, and Darcy frowned because she sensed something in his voice - and this was probably serious extrapolation, but it was as if Coulson had always been the one who drove, before, and now, because of Clint...

It didn’t take genius level intellect to figure out what Clint was getting eased back into SHIELD by working with the recruits and Coulson. Darcy caught the looks he got, less frequently now than when she was first at the SHIELD compound, but still. People only tended to avert their eyes when Coulson, usually in his chair right next to Clint, stared them down. Jane had told her that Selvig had said the mind control had been really insidious - that he felt exactly like himself, but better, and solely motivated by the purpose of serving Loki.

She supposed it was easier to blame someone who was there, in the hallways and cafeteria every day, than Loki. He was almost an abstract, these days, and she had stumbled across several groups on the Internet who had adopted him and used him to support one type of belief or an other - and plenty of people who thought their beliefs were now validated, from pagan groups to Neo Nazis. She got that it was easier to blame Clint Barton for everything than some supposed Norse God with a glowstick of destiny, but...

She supposed it was what made her wishy-washy, or whatever the word was that one of the military guys had used to describe her when she had started to analyze a situation they had been presented with - there were very few things, when people and feelings were involved, that had yes or no answers. You would think, as part of the SHIELD sensitivity training, probably somewhere after the sex pollen discussion - and how happy was Darcy to learn this was real? - they would add in _sensitivity towards those who have been brainwashed._ After all, it wasn’t like Clint was the first, and he certainly wasn’t going to be the last.

“Looks like you’re having big thoughts back there,” Clint said, and Darcy gave him a slightly forced grin.

“Lots to think about,” she said. 

“I hope that isn’t a set-up for some iPod comment,” Coulson said, and, seriously? Darcy had mentioned it once. Twice if you counted the time that she had bitched to Jane, but it wasn’t like - she shook her head. Of course they had bugged the place.

“That’s the sort of thing that’s only funny once, sir,” she said. 

“That’s good,” Coulson said, looking at Clint. “It’s important for our agents to have good comedic sense.”

“I’m hilarious,” Clint said, in complete deadpan, and for some reason it made Darcy feel for him again.

“Many of the things that we work on - especially lately - are inherently funny, if you think about it,” Coulson said, and he glanced over at Clint again for a moment before smiling, slightly, at a memory of times that were better. 

“Speaking of funny,” Clint said, and he turned again and the car swerved along with him, leading Coulson to grip the handle nearest him, “do I need to have a chat with your roommate about the care and feeding of Natasha Romanov?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Darcy replied.

“You can’t lie to a spy, Agent Lewis,” Clint said.

“I thought you were just a sniper. Sir.” Clint had made the comment during one of their sessions where they had talked about how to recognize when people were trying to get information out of you. Darcy added the _sir_ in hopes that he knew that she knew that she thought he was definitely a lot more than that, which...

“Don’t tell the others, but I like it best when people underestimate me,” Clint said, with a slight grin.

* * *

Darcy came into the conversation late, it being her turn to go and fetch coffee for everyone during the half hour afternoon break. She stopped, a few feet before the table, when she realized what they were discussing. “I guess that’s how much they value us, letting someone like that handle our training...” said the ex-Army Ranger.

“I can’t believe Agent Coulson would work with him, after-”

“You kill enough of your own people, I guess this is what you get stuck with-”

“Fuck that, I mean, can you imagine the nerve of coming back to some place after-”

There were several possible reactions to this, and were Darcy not trying to actually obtain a job at a secretive intelligence and sort of military organization, she probably would have dumped the somewhat hot coffee on the ex-military guys heads. But, as she often had to remind herself when a snarky comment rose to the forefront, there was a time and a place, and while Coulson and Clint and the other Avengers when she occasionally saw them seemed to think she was funny, she knew there was a pretty strict boundary.

Instead, she used the coffee as an excuse to get between the two biggest assholes in the conversation and setting down the box of coffee from Dunkin Donuts - true fact: SHIELD headquarters, in Times Square, have their own Dunkin Donuts - and smiled at them. “I don’t think it’s respectful to speak of a senior agent that way,” she said, trying to keep her language as formal as theirs was when they argued with her. “Especially considering you have little idea of the actual circumstances you’re referencing.” 

“And you do?” Ex-Navy Seal asked her. 

“Not entirely,” Darcy said. She raised an eyebrow, hoping it was suggestive.

“Really, Lewis, you’re on the inside track?” _Mission accomplished,_ she thought.

Juliana rolled her eyes and smiled at Darcy, though it was slightly pained. Darcy could tell she wanted people to know - she was tired of the mild denigration the civilians were being handed by the ex-military agents, and, really, did they thing that a place like SHIELD would recruit someone who wasn’t, in some way, useful? More than that, people who had proved themselves in some capacity?

“Agent Lewis was recruited after being present at the Thor first contact,” Coulson said, rolling into the room - deux es Senior Agent, Darcy thought. “She witnessed the destruction in New Mexico by the initial alien antagonist.” This was all straight from the power point they had watched the day before, _History and Present Nature of Extraterrestrial Contact_ , which Darcy referred to, in her head, as _Aliens and You._

“Oh,” said the ex-Army Ranger. Darcy nodded at him, and he looked down, likely making some sort of plea to the applicable deity that Coulson hadn’t heard the comments on Clint. _From now on,_ Darcy decided, _I am going to say thank Thor, etc. etc._

“Certainly you all have something better to do on your break?” Coulson asked. “Especially considering you have four minutes left in it?” He glanced over at the coffee and then rolled out of the room. 

“So you know Thor?” asked the biochemist, and Darcy shrugged her shoulders.

“Uh...sort of?” 

“She tazered him,” Juliana said, and Darcy shot her a look - that was supposed to be her line. 

“He was sort of human at the time?” Darcy replied. That had never really been cleared up for her. Juliana shrugged. 

“Is he as...” asked one of the female Air Force officers, and then she blushed slightly and looked away.

“More,” Darcy said. “So much more.” 

“Oh, come on,” said one of the other military people. “And I suppose you have some super special story, too?” He said, glancing over at Juliana. _Dude,_ Darcy thought, and from their expressions, a lot of the other recruits were thinking something similar, _were you not just here when Coulson came in and chastised the other guy? He could be. Right. Outside. The. Door._

“Juliana is Peggy Carter-Hough’s granddaughter,” Darcy said - and maybe that was why Juliana said the taser thing. It was a little less wanky when you were talking about your friend, right?

Their SHIELD handbook had a very flattering photo of Peggy and a short biography. The sentence _Mrs. Carter-Hough was involved with the pre-cursor to SHIELD, the SSR, during the Second World War and predominantly worked on the Super Soldier Project and later, on the strategic targeting of Hydra along with Captain Steve Rogers (“Captain America”) and the Howling Commandos_ had made Darcy sad, and made her think of the two of them and their terse parting smiles to each other. Most history never included the really important parts. 

“It’s fine, though,” Juliana said, finishing her coffee. “You can feel free to mock me as a legacy hire.” It was a little bit true, Darcy thought - while Juliana was no doubt incredibly intelligent and had proved to be proficient at most things in training, her presence here was largely related to SHIELD deciding that badassery was an inherited trait. 

“Recruits,” Clint said, coming into the room before things could devolve any further. “Please follow me to one of the vacant labs in the building, where we will be testing your ability to utilize found objects to make weaponry, aid in your escape, and serve several other purposes - yes, that’s right, we do have a McGuyver class.” 

Darcy glanced over at Juliana and smiled - it was good to see that, as the training had progressed, Clint’s sense of humor was permeating more and more of his interactions with the recruits.

* * * * *

**Steve**

“I used to love dinosaurs as a kid,” Steve said, and then was a little embarrassed at actually saying it out loud. This was only mitigated when he realized he was standing in front of the Natural History Museum with Bruce, Betty, and Thor - people who were likely fascinated with dinosaurs or the still living Asgardian equivalent when they were children too.

“So,” Bruce said, as they walked towards the museum, “Dino and saur are Greek words, meaning terrible and lizard.” Thor nodded at this. On all of their excursions, which Tony called field trips - it took Steve until excursion three, when he overheard a pack of schoolchildren all hanging onto a long rope talking about the field trip they were on to realize the comment was derisive - Thor bought guidebooks. Tony had, of course, joked about it when he took them to the Met. _You want the one with all of the pictures, right?_ he’d asked, and Thor had furrowed his brow. _Why?_ he had asked, _when I am able to see what is described with my own eyes?_

“I approve of these creatures,” Thor said, when they entered the room where the skeletons were staged. “Have I told you about the Bilchstein of Asgard? They are quite large, with horns like this beast-”

“That’s a triceratops,” Steve said, as they walked over to the skeleton. As they explored, he noted that Betty and Bruce mostly hung back, talking to one another. Betty would occasionally touch Bruce, indicating something she wanted him to look at, or taking his hand as they walked through the corridors. Steve watched, both pleased and melancholy at their reunion - though he also wasn’t sure if that’s what it was, or if it were merely an affectionate friendship. Bruce had gone to see her once since she left the Tower, and now she was here for the week while on break from teaching at MIT. Last night, Bruce had helped her grade student essays.

“We’re going to go into the Ocean Hall..?” Betty said, approaching them slowly. Thor turned and smiled at her.

“We shall join you shortly.”

“What we know about dinosaurs sure has changed since...” even after two, three months, Steve hadn’t come up with a good way to express this, so he ended his sentence in a shrug. Thor moved closer to him - Asgardians seemed to have a different understanding of personal space, and Thor still hadn’t really adapted to it. There were certain things that he either took to more easily or was less stubborn about.

“Your understanding of your world moves at a much more rapid pace than our knowledge on Asgard,” Thor said. “So much is already known. It is one of the reasons I enjoy your realm so much.” He smiled at Steve, and it made Steve feel a little flush.

Trying to preserve some of his dignity, he asked, “You still have the Bilchstein?”

“Indeed,” Thor said. His forehead creased slightly. “Though they are a nuisance, and seem to mostly take to rampage and ruin. I have hunted them many times to prevent destruction.” 

“That must be...” Steve wasn’t really sure. When he was a kid, he had fantasized about having a dinosaur to ride around on. 

“Let us rejoin Betty and Bruce,” said Thor, and he flipped open his book. “I am most interested in learning the tale of the squid and the whale.” 

* * *

“What did you do today?” Peggy asked, and Steve paused for a moment as he leaned back into the couch in his new apartment at Stark Towers - Tony had practically forced it upon him, after coming to visit him in the place SHIELD had found for him Brooklyn. 

Peggy sounded tired - she had, lately, and he felt like it was his fault. Her health was already...the journey up to New York, and everything that they had talked about, none of that could have helped. 

“Betty and Bruce took Thor and I to the Natural History museum,” Steve said. He glanced over the stuffed dinosaur Thor had purchased for him. “Thor bought me a stuffed dinosaur. I don’t think he understood it’s for kids.” 

Peggy chuckled, and Steve smiled, hearing her laugh. “You seem to spend a good deal of time with him.”

“Well, it’s all part of...acclimating us to things, I guess,” Steve said. “Plus Tony’s got us all here, together-”

“In his super hero fraternity,” Peggy said.

“Something like that,” Steve said. “But it’s good. I don’t feel like I’m so...alone.” 

There was a long pause, and Steve stared at the stegosaurus again. “I understand,” Peggy said, “it’s strange, isn’t it, to be surrounded by people and to feel that way.” 

“He listens,” Steve said. “A lot of people act like they want to hear about...things, but they don’t, really, they just want the highlights. But Thor, he actually wants to know-”

“You talk about him quite a bit,” Peggy said.

Steve blushed, and was glad that Peggy had put an end to Tony’s insistence the two of them use video chat. “Well, Tony and Bruce are always busy doing something, so...”

“It just sounds to me, Steve, that the God of Thunder might have a crush on you.” 

“I don’t think-”

“Steve.” Peggy’s tone was clearly that of a mother, and it made Steve feel an almost paralyzing ache deep in chest. What she said next didn’t help, “In my experience, you are not the most perceptive on these matters.” Steve held his breath, waiting until his chest actually burned until he exhaled. “Of course,” Peggy continued, her tone belying something similar, “I didn’t mean to presume you’re interested in men-”

“No, that’s alright,” Steve said, and reflected on the absurdity of the situation that this admission was set in, “I do, I think, I - I wasn’t lying, when I told you I had no experience with dames.” 

“Good,” Peggy said, voice soft. “Then you should approach him.”

“I really don’t think-” Steve wracked his brain through their past interactions, trying to come up with something that would prove her wrong. Something that he wouldn’t have to explain with, _well, he’s from a different realm, so it’s possible that..._ “I mean-”

“You still don’t have any clue, do you?” Peggy asked, and her laugh this time was a little choked, and it almost made Steve wonder why they kept torturing themselves like this, every other or every third day, because the conversation always drifted to someplace like this. “You haven’t really reconciled what you can do with how you appear.” 

Steve glanced down, opening and closing his hand. It had taken him a few days to get his sketching back up to the level he had been at before the serum, his fingers fumbling with the now small pencils. “No,” he said. “But I don’t want to be-”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Peggy said. “You were always...”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, and he waited for a long while before continuing. “Weren’t you supposed to be giving me advice on how to..?”

“He seems like a very...goodness, I don’t want to say...how about straightforward?” Peggy said, and the composure was back in her voice. Steve envied her for her years of training as a spy. “You could just say how you...I’m presuming that you do feel something?”

“I like his company,” Steve said, though he was thinking about Thor stretching, shirtless, before they sparred and the movement of his muscles, particularly his shoulders. The way he smiled at Steve when he found something genuinely amusing and, for some reason, the expression on his face as he stood outside in a rainstorm, his slumped shoulders indicating he was thinking about Loki.

“You should...you deserve this, Steve. Don’t isolate yourself anymore.” 

They talked, for another five minutes, though Steve honestly couldn’t remember what it was about. They ended with Peggy asking if Steve had seen Juliana recently - she hadn’t been emailing, though Peggy understood that it was because she was quite busy with training. “Goodbye, Steve,” Peggy said, and when they hung up, Steve slumped back into the couch and looked, for a third time, at the dinosaur.

* * *

“Thor,” he said, finding him in the enormous, overstuffed chair he had claimed as his own in the second living room, which Tony insisted on referring to as _the media room._ “What are you watching?”

“It is a show that Darcy recommended,” Thor said, waving his hand at the screen. “It is about a group of young friends navigating the difficulty of living in Manhattan in the near past. She said it would help me to understand Midgardian interactions.”

“Huh,” Steve said, “what is it called?”

“ _Friends,_ ” Thor said, cheerful, and he glanced over at the couch that was closest to the chair. “The episodes are quite short and I can explain to you what has happened so far-”

“They have a duck and a chick?” Steve asked, cocking his head slightly.

“Aye,” Thor said, “they are most beloved.” 

“Actually,” Steve said, and he felt his throat tighten, and he thought - it’s just a question, and even if you’re wrong, and Peggy’s wrong, what difference does it make? It’s just dinner. Friends get dinner together. Now. Maybe - and he understood, then, why Darcy might have been serious when she recommended the show. “Actually, I was wondering if you might like to get dinner tonight?” 

Thor shifted, and it emphasized the bulge in his sweatpants - he had taken to wearing sweatsuits around the Tower after Tony bought him some. Apparently, in Asgard, there were no clothes for lounging, as it was primarily done in the nude. “This evening?”

“If you’re free...”

“Well, I should be,” Thor said. “Lest we be called upon to defend this realm again.” Steve smiled when he realized that Thor had made a joke. 

“Great,” Steve said, and he moved to leave before Thor shook his head slightly.

“Truly, Steve, this show is most instructional - we can watch several more episodes, and then dine?” 

“OK,” Steve said, and he walked around and settled down on the couch. Thor smiled at him. 

* * * * *

**Betty**

Bruce made her dinner after they returned from the museum. She slipped right back into her normal position as sous chef, a bit relieved that there were onions and garlic to keep her busy after her initial fumble. “Curry?” she had asked, when Bruce announced what he was making. “When did you learn to cook curry?” He had looked away, and shrugged, and she had wanted to kick herself.

She felt that a lot, lately, and not because of small mistakes and things she kept forgetting. It was more based on how naive she had been to think that she would come to New York, just to check and see if Bruce was alright. Or that she had thought the visceral reaction she had to seeing him was related to old, lingering bonds rather than a still present want. At least she had come to her senses. 

“So you make the paste from scratch?” she asked, immediately after he shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said. “But it takes a while, so...I made it this week, actually. In the lab with this pestle and mortar I found...” he smiled at her, and she smiled back. There had been several romantic dinners in their various lab spaces. She was a little troubled, though - Bruce certainly looked older since she had last seen him, more grey hair, more frown lines, but his smile lines remained the same. Something to work on, she supposed. It was good he was so comfortable in Stark Tower.

They sat and ate it at the table. “I hope today wasn’t too boring for you...” he said, watching her intently as she put the first bite of curry in her mouth.

“Oh, wow, Bruce, this is fantastic - not that your cooking is ever, but...” she almost said something about having a foodgasm and then remembered that moment between them when Bruce had pulled away, almost ashamed. How long must it have been for him? They hadn’t discussed it at all, either the past weekend he had gone to see her or this week. It didn’t matter, really - she knew where her priorities were. “And no, I had a great time. They’re both so...it’s just funny, isn’t it? They’re the oldest, sort of, but the youngest.” 

“Steve’s twenty-two, really,” Bruce said, and Betty opened her mouth slightly. She had presumed the serum had slowed his aging, that he was perhaps twenty-five, at least. 

“He’s a baby,” she said. “And so...” 

“There was a war going on, Betty,” Bruce said, voice completely serious - and she liked it how the rest of the Avengers hadn’t caught onto this yet, but she knew it about him. “Men had to grow up a lot quicker, back then.” He ate his first bite, finally. She definitely needed to get him to eat more. She had never seen him this thin. “And I have no idea how old Thor is, developmentally or biologically. I have a feeling Asgardian years are sort of the opposite of dog years, though.” 

Betty nodded. “When I was coming back from the library,” she said, because she was unable to do things like answer e-mails when Bruce was around, even if he was working on things as well, and wasn’t she a lovesick thirteen year-old? She realized she had stopped from thinking about it, and started again. “When I was coming back from the library, I found Thor with his arm around Steve while they were watching television.” 

Bruce widened his eyes. “Huh. You know, I thought Thor was sort of...looking at Steve a lot.”

“You mean checking him out, Dr. Banner,” Betty said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Bruce said, though he still blushed slightly.

Again, she wondered how she had thought that she was over this man - though she had been aided by some pharmaceuticals and some therapy. Bruce had been thoughtful and quiet when she told him about the experience, briefly sketching it out. It was probably easier to tell your...boyfriend, she supposed, though they hadn’t talked about that either, about your experience with institutionalization when there was a spa attached to the ward.

“More wine?” she asked. By the end of dinner, both of them were sort of buzzed, Bruce perhaps more so since he said that he had only started to drink alcohol again recently.

That was good, too, the fact that he was able to relax. It probably helped having Tony wandering around, constantly in his bracelets, and Steve and Thor on the floor above them. And he was not just more relaxed, but, more importantly, accepting things. Not that the Other Guy was something you should reasonably be expected to accept, but it certainly made things easier.

They settled onto the couch for a movie, and Betty quickly curled into Bruce and rested a head on his shoulder. So far, this was as physical as they had been - cuddling, an occasional chaste kiss, spooning in bed. So while she wasn’t surprised when Bruce pulled her in for a kiss, she was a little more surprised when his tongue slowly opened her lips and moved inwards.

She let herself sink into him and allowed him to take control of the kiss. She certainly wasn’t going to object to this - this was what taking it slow meant, right, even given their circumstances? After all, you had to advance at some point. They’d likely just reach their destination a bit more slowly, but-

She was surprised again when Bruce’s hand cupped her breast and his thumb quickly remembered the perfect spot to stroke her. “Bruce,” she moaned, pulling away.

Betty had prepared for a variety of expressions, primarily contrite as Bruce stammered about how he had gone too far and was sorry, just as before. Sheepish hadn’t been on the list. “Bruce?” 

“So, turns out,” he said, voice soft as he looked at his hands, “it’s not really a...strict heart rate thing that leads to, uh...which is to say, I’ve tried, and it seems like I can...” 

It took her a moment to realize that he expected her to be angry. Instead, she grinned and utilized his surprise against him. She put both her palms on him and pushed him down on the couch and straddled him. “You can do this?” she asked, and swiveled her hips over him.

“Yeah,” he gulped, and Betty leaned down and kissed him hard, working him open with her tongue and running her hands through his hair - and feeling a little relieved that it was as soft as she had remembered. 

“Bruce?” she asked, pulling away and nuzzling into his neck. “Are you still interested in watching the movie?”

He furrowed his brow, slightly, and then gave her a slight smile. “Is that a way of asking whether I still think we should take things slow?” 

Betty nodded, and she kept close to him as he led her towards the bedroom. “Bruce, I-” she said, and paused for a moment before kissing him hard on the mouth, and then the neck. “And we can..?”

“Well, I can’t be 100% positive-”

“I trust you,” she said, and carefully began to unbutton his shirt as he returned to kissing her. 

“I missed you so much,” he replied, and she sat down on the bed and gave herself a full view of the opened shirt against his torso. Betty couldn’t resist running her hands through his chest hair and smiled softly. 

A minor crisis emerged when they released that they lacked certain items, as both of them had strictly adhered to the agreement to take things slowly. Then Bruce bit at his lower lip, indicating he was deep in thought, and reached over to the nightstand. “I’ve never opened this before, but...” and he grinned when he emerged with a veritable treasure trove of the things they were looking for and many of the things they were not.

“Remind me to thank Tony later,” Betty said, before leaning in and closing her mouth over Bruce’s. 

They would watch the movie after, both curling up in their underwear and under the plush blanket supplied with the apartment. “Are we going to talk about this?” Betty asked.

“About the dildos?” Bruce replied. “were you just as intrigued as I was?” 

Betty smiled, but also felt herself tear up - and, for the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to cry because you were happy. Before, she would have argued it was just a dramatic device. She managed to pull herself back and get things under control before Bruce noticed, because she didn’t want to have to explain to him how happy she was that he had just made some comment about dildos. In that moment she had the old Bruce back - the one she had found after a few awkward encounters in the hallway, two evenings out for dinner, and the best first time sex she had ever had.

“No,” she said, debated about clarifying, and then decided against it. Bruce smiled at her, and she knew he understood what she had been getting at. 

“We can think of something,” he said. “I wonder how long it takes to fly Air Mjolnir?”

“He flies with that thing?”

“By swinging it around a lot - wait, really, of all the...and you’re going to get incredulous about that?” 

“You’re right,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek before laying her head on his shoulder. 

* * * * *

**Clint**

Clint narrowed his eyes at the incoming SHIELD recruits, folders with their assignments in his hand. This wasn’t the assignment he had expected after his three weeks of leave following the battle of Manhattan. He had come back from traveling with Natasha - well, laying on beaches with Natasha and occasionally sipping silly alcoholic beverages with Natasha - and his first thought was to go and throw a bit of a shit fit in Coulson’s office.

He stopped, mid-way, his strut the same strut he always had when he was about to throw a bit of a shit fit in Coulson’s office. Clint liked to think the realization came all on its own to him, but it was more likely the result of the hostile looks he got in the hallway from three mid-level agents. 

He recovered quickly and raised his eyebrows slightly at them. “Agent Barton,” one said, and he gave a brisk nod of his head and continued down the corridor as though he still had a destination.

Then he turned around, made for the most convenient exit, and headed out onto the street. Coulson wasn’t due back at work for another two days, so he was located in Stark Tower, not his office.

When he had Skyped with Clint and Natasha from the hospital about the move, both had been incredulous. “Tony Stark,” Natasha said. “The man who thinks your first name is Agent?” 

Coulson had shrugged, then winced. “You know, we’ve known each other, in a sort of professional context, for a while now,” he said, paused, and added, “He got me a nurse.” 

“Oh, God,” Clint said. “Let’s hope she’s actually certified.”

“I already called the New York State Board,” Coulson said, which relieved Clint. “She graduated from University at Buffalo with high honors in her program.” 

Amelia had greeted Clint when he arrived at the Tower. “I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m-”

“Is Agent Coulson awake?” Clint asked, and she frowned at him. She was as attractive as Clint had expected her to be, considering she had been hired by Stark. 

“Yes, but-”

Clint flashed his SHIELD badge at her, not even sure if she knew what it was or what the various levels of clearance were. She was at least good enough at reading people to step out of his way.

“Clint,” Phil said, a smile on his face as he lay in the elaborate hospital bed in his room.

Clint had not been expecting a smile, or for Coulson to appear happy to see him - he’d been avoiding coming to see Coulson since he got back in New York. He hadn’t even called him since he’d been back, and he knew how Coulson felt about that sort of thing - and yet, here he was.

“You’re going to go back to work on painkillers like that?” Clint asked, sitting down on the plush chair next to Coulson’s bed. 

“We’re training the new recruits together,” Coulson said. “I think it will be fine if I am not 100% sober.” Clint frowned, not sure if sober Coulson or stoned Coulson had reasoned that out - Coulson rarely took painkillers for this reason, only if it was really...bad. Clint flinched, then looked down.

“OK,” Clint said. They could have that conversation later.

“We got Darcy Lewis to sign up,” Coulson said.

“Maybe being on painkillers is a smart decision,” Clint said. 

“How long have you been back?” Coulson asked, and Clint frowned again. “Clint. It’s not your fault.” 

“Everyone keeps saying that-” Clint said.

“I know, I should have known better.” Coulson tried to adjust himself in his bed, and winced when he did it. Clint reached and helped him pull forward, even though he knew that Coulson was perfectly capable at this point in time - it just still hurt. 

“None of us could have withstood him.” Coulson said.

“You did.” _Sort of,_ Clint amended. He hadn’t been nosy - he relied on Natasha for that, and Phil had been evasive about his prognosis, which indicated to both of them that he hadn’t received promising feedback from his doctors. Coulson always reassured them, when he honestly could.

“I think tapping and stabbing seem to have a different effect,” Coulson said. “Did you have a nice time with Natasha?” 

“Yeah,” Clint said. 

Now, weeks later he gave Darcy Lewis the same hard stare that he gave all the other recruits - now agents. It was rare that someone didn’t make it through training, but they never told any of them that. Coulson entered and wheeled himself next to Clint.

“First, congratulations are in order, Agents,” he said, and he paused in order to take in the looks of relief on their face - some more palpable than others, particularly Darcy’s. “In these folders, I have your assignments.” He walked amongst their desks, handing one to each of them. As in years passed, everyone held onto theirs, waiting for some cue. Except Darcy, of course, who narrowed her eyes when she saw her assignment. Once she did it, everyone else opened theirs.

Clint leaned over to Coulson. “Now that they’ve agents and not under our direct supervision, can we take Darcy and Juliana out for a drink?” 

“Yes,” Coulson replied, keeping a straight face - Clint had been relieved when he turned up for the first day of work at SHIELD and seemed to have significantly decreased the medications he was taking while working - though there were still a few moments of silliness that made Clint smile, and then made him feel bad for smiling. 

Darcy and Clint were charged with getting drinks for the group. Clint caught Darcy looking back as Natasha put a hand on Juliana’s back before the two of them sat down in the booth. Darcy’s brow furrowed, and Clint felt for her - a little. She’d apparently gone back to Norway with Jane for two weeks to deal with the fallout of her break-up - if they had ever even really been in a relationship - with Thor, and then had come back to New York and moved in with another SHIELD recruit she’d known for three days. Who was being pursued by Natasha.

“She doesn’t really date people,” Clint said. 

“Oh,” Darcy said, and Clint leaned in a little bit to try and get the bartender’s attention.

“She has, I mean,” Clint backpedaled, “But it’s a bit of an aberration-”

“No, it’s cool,” Darcy said. “She’s not like my bestest, oldest friend, you know? We’re roommates. And it’s not like...we got assigned to different units, so.” 

Clint didn’t have the nuance detecting skills that Coulson or Natasha did, but they weren’t necessary to determine that this might be where the main source of Darcy’s ire was. “She’s in intelligence, right?” Darcy nodded. “And you’re-” He knew, of course, but he wanted to hear how Darcy said it.

“Coulson’s assistant,” she said. “In Special Projects, and I like Agent Coulson, but-”

“Well, you could see it like, in Game of Thrones, where Jon gets assigned to the stewards rather than the rangers?” Clint asked, willing to bet that Darcy was going to understand that reference.

“Really?” Darcy asked, and then pressed her lips together. “You’ve read those books?”

“Agent Lewis,” Clint said, as the drinks they ordered arrived, “It is the twenty-first century, and my weapon of choice is a bow and arrow.”

“Bad-ass technological exploding arrows,” Darcy amended. “But, yes, right, I get it.” 

They stayed at the bar for three hours, which surprised Clint. It felt like a long time since he’d engaged in friendly conversation that wasn’t about work or avenging. There were moments where he felt like he might not deserve it, but he stifled those impulses because Coulson had threatened to taser him if he got maudlin. Coulson always knew how to get results.

Towards the end of the evening, Darcy leaned over and whispered to him, “I think I’m drunk.”

“You’ve earned it,” he said, and punched her arm lightly. “Agent Lewis.” She grinned at him - he liked her, he did. He had liked her the night he had kissed her. The kissing had been his decision, and he didn’t regret it - but he also knew that it was not in the least bit advisable for him to pursue a relationship right now. 

She smiled back at him. “I know,” she said.

“That would explain why they assigned you to Coulson,” he said, and she cocked her head. “The telepathy.” Darcy grinned again. She had a great smile.

* * * * * 

**Steve**

Steve had got JARVIS to recommend a restaurant that was casual, but also nice, and had almost choked when the A.I. had responded with, “Would you like me to consult Sir’s list of appropriate date restaurants?” Then he had consented - if he couldn’t admit his intentions to a computer, how was he going to move forward with...whatever it was?

As they walked to the restaurant, Thor said, seemingly out of nowhere, “On my way to change for our dinner I ran into Clint,” he said, “and when he asked if I would be interested in getting a pizza with him and Natasha I told him that you had asked me for dinner. He indicated that this was something that those in your realm do as a date - as a way to explore romantic feelings. And I wished to ensure that I understood your intentions.” He smiled at Steve, who had turned slightly red as Thor continued to speak.

“Uh...well...” Steve said. “I thought, yes. That was the idea - unless you don’t want to-”

Thor turned and put both hands on Steve’s shoulders and smiled at him, then leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “I would very much like to,” he said. “Onward, then, to the dining establishment you have chosen.” 

“It’s just around the corner, I think,” Steve said. Plenty of things had changed, but at least Manhattan was still a grid. 

“Wonderful,” Thor said. “I am most pleased with the culinary offerings of Midgard, as well as your skills with viticulture. While I prefer to drink mead, a good wine is the perfect accompaniment to a meal.” Steve nodded, though he didn’t really know. He also didn’t really know how to take Thor’s nonchalance about the whole thing. Steve was glad to see that people were a lot less ignorant about homosexual relationships, seventy years in the future - but he had no idea how such things were viewed on Asgard, and especially amongst warriors. It could go either way, really, Greek or...something else. He was just glad that he had been interpreting the looks that Thor had been giving him correctly, not to mention the gift of the stuffed dinosaur. 

The maitre’d eyed both of them appreciatively, and Steve ducked his head down as she led them to the back of the small, nicely appointed restaurant space where they had an alcove to themselves. “Here is the wine list,” she said, and handed it to Thor.

“I know not of any of these,” Thor said, tossing the menu down on the table just as she turned. “Perhaps you have someone who might be of assistance?” 

The sommelier came shortly - and there were so many new career opportunities, these days, though there would have to be, with all of the new people, and _Oh, God,_ Steve thought, _I’m babbling to myself._

He asked several questions about food and his preferences that Thor answered without hesitation, even though Steve was fairly sure that he didn’t entirely know what he was being asked. Steve didn’t pay too much attention, mostly focusing on Thor and the brightness in his eyes - and how did he manage that, between Loki’s betrayal and Jane’s huffy exit? Was that one of the benefits of living for centuries? Steve was more inclined to believe it was part of the other man’s character, and he appreciated how Thor could be contemplative when the moment called for it and could cast that aside and enjoy himself when it did not.

“And you, sir, are you dining on red or white meat tonight?” It took a moment for Steve to realize the question was being directed at him.

“That has yet to be determined!” Thor said, and chuckled, and _Oh, God,_ Steve thought, and felt the distinct sense of both blushing and having blood rush south of his naval.

“I don’t really drink,” he said, and felt lame for it, even though Thor was giving him the same encouraging smile.

“You will, after you have some of this Malbec,” the sommelier said, and winked at him.

“I believe his was flirting with you, Steven,” Thor said, narrowing his eyes slightly but still smiling. “I do not blame him.” 

“I don’t-”

“I hope you do not find this intrusive, but Tony Stark’s manservant-” this was how Thor referred to JARVIS, much to Tony’s amusement, even though Steve was fairly certain that he completely understood how the A.I. worked, “-allowed me to view information on you, and the others. I sense that you do not see yourself as others see you.” 

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment. He had never really been on a date, since the girls Bucky had wrangled into coming along didn’t really count, and he wasn’t sure if this was the sort of thing you really talked about before the wine even arrived. Of course, it wasn’t like Thor did either. “Well,” he said, finally. “I was like that for a lot longer than...”

“That is understandable,” Thor said. “If you would let me, I would endeavor to help you know how I see you.” 

Steve blushed - and, damnit, he’d been in a war, he’d listened to Bucky and Dum Dum and everyone else talk around campfires, he’d traveled with a pack of chorus girls when nearly every other able-bodied man in the country was off at war... 

“I’m sorry,” Thor said, “is this not an appropriate topic for discussion over a meal?”

“Uh...” Steve said, because Bucky had never come out and said anything like that to the girls he eventually ended up taking back to their apartment, where Steve would have to lay on the other side of paper thin walls and listen to - but that wasn’t the point, anymore. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I mean, I’m not sure, anymore. I don’t really understand a lot of things-”

“Nor I,” Thor said, as the sommelier returned with the bottle of wine. “It is why I am most appreciative of our friends and their desire to show us around this city.” The sommelier passed an enormous glass to Thor, who took the whole thing down in one sip. Judging from the sommelier’s expression, this was not how it was supposed to be done.

“What do you think, sir?” he asked.

“It is thick, vibrant, heady,” Thor said. “We shall drink this.” 

“Really, I’m-”

“Tell him that it will enhance his dining experience,” Thor said to the sommelier.

“It does pair nicely with steak,” he replied, and Steve realized that he wasn’t going to get Thor to back down on this, so he gave a short smile and pushed his enormous wine glass to get filled.

“I appreciate it to,” Steve said. “It just makes me feel...so young.” 

“Aye,” Thor said. “Tony Stark mentioned you are the youngest of our group.” Steve had yet to figure out why Tony was the only person that Thor consistently addressed with both his first and last name.

“In a way,” Steve said.

“True, for there are many ways to view most things” Thor said, and there was a little melancholy there. He drank half his wine glass and looking around, irate. “Has that little man walked away with our wine?” 

“Yes,” Steve said. He hadn’t picked up on that. 

“We will be sure to indicate our displeasure when the meal is over,” Thor said, and he crossed his arms over his chest as the waitress approached. Thor was wearing a button down shirt - one of Tony’s first tasks, when Thor returned from Asgard, was getting him a Midgardian wardrobe - and the gesture pulled the sleeves tight across his biceps and Steve and the waitress couldn’t help but stare. She widened her eyes, a little, when she saw that he had noticed, but Steve shook his head slightly.

After they both ordered the steak, Thor said, “Darcy will be completing her mandatory training for SHIELD soon. I was told it is customary in this realm that her companions arrange some sort of festivity to mark this.” 

“I think so,” Steve said - he had almost forgot about Darcy. She had been the one to handle the whole Jane thing, and Steve hadn’t even noticed that things had soured between Jane and Thor until a few days after Jane returned to Norway with Darcy, so she must have done so skillfully. Though Steve had been a bit distracted at the time. “She would like that, at least.” 

“Do you know what such a festivity would entail?” Thor asked, and Steve shook his head. 

“Really, I don’t know much about things here, anymore,” he said, and he’d been trying to explain this to Thor for some time, but apparently seventy years in Asgard was completely different from that kind of time on earth and it was an intellectual hurdle that they weren’t going to conquer.

Except Thor leaned forward and put his hand on the table. Almost instinctively, Steve lifted his own hand off his waist and settled it into Thor’s - and it was strange, how good it felt, to have a larger hand wrap around his own. “I am sorry, Steven. No one should have to lose so much.” 

“Thank you,” Steve said. He almost added, _you too,_ but that would have pulled them out of the moment. 

Thor released his hand, then, and leaned back, smiling - another seamless transition. If only everyone were the basis for Norse Gods. “You should tell me more about the mighty dinosaurs,” he said, “I am intrigued, for they seem to be like many of the creatures we currently hunt on Asgard...” 

Neither he nor Thor got drunk off the wine, but Steve couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded as they walked home. It had started to rain, but only slightly, and he knew the sensible thing to do would have been to get into a cab, but there were a lot worse things than just getting a little bit wet. 

“I had a lovely evening, Steven,” Thor said, when they got to the front of the Tower - as though he were dropping Steve off there. Steve still appreciated it.

He nodded in response, and Thor put a hand to the side of his face and then tilted Steve’s head upwards so that he could kiss him. He did not open his mouth, rather, he worked his thick lips against Steve’s for a good period of time before pulling away. Thor’s pupils were slightly dilated. “While I would very much like to take you to my room to show my appreciation, I am happy for us to have whatever period of courtship you feel is suitable.”

There was definitely a part of Steve - especially after a kiss like that - who wanted to just say, _Fuck it,_ and let Thor make good in the various promises he had made in that regard over the course of the evening. There was something magnetic about him, especially in the way that he managed to be both deferential to Steve and confident in his own beliefs and statements. A much smaller part reminded him that this was an uncharacteristic decision, for him, and that he shouldn’t make choices like that when he wasn’t entirely sure who Thor was, yet. An even smaller part of him wanted to remind him how long he had waited, for this sort of thing - _finding the right partner,_ the melancholy part of his brain supplied - and that he should take advantage of an offer to relieve him of his inexperience when it was presented to him. There was a reason that this was the smallest part.

“Thank you,” Steve said, finally, and he pulled Thor in and wrapped him - Steve could just get his arms around Thor, perhaps the only Avenger with the ability to do so - and Steve wanted to cling to him for a period of time that was probably socially prohibitive, if only because it would be blocking access to the tower.

Instead, Steve pulled himself up, slightly, so he could kiss Thor on the mouth again - and, really, it wasn’t all that different from kissing dames. A little scratchier, definitely a little hairier, but other than that, not all that different. He almost reflected on how, had things been different back before, he might have had more experience kissing men, but then thought, _really, Steve, who are you kidding?_ His first kiss had sort of been forced on him, and his second had been in a moving car while he was in hot pursuit of the Red Skull. 

Steve was fairly certain he was the one who opened Thor’s mouth, but that Thor was the one who moved his tongue and teased inwards. Steve leaned in closer and felt Thor’s hand against his hip, his fingers kneading into him. Steve moaned into the kiss and felt Thor smile before he pulled back. 

“I shall follow your lead,” Thor said. “Might I escort you to your room?”

“Oh. Sure,” Steve said, and smiled at him. No one had teased him about Thor’s evident affections, so he was fairly certain that Thor had managed to be discreet, and, using his famous deductive reasoning, Steve was pretty sure no one had given Thor a talk about not moving too fast with Steve because he needed to be treated with kid gloves. Steve was very grateful for this. 

“Excellent,” Thor said, and grinned at him. Steve smiled back.

* * * * * 

**Tony**

Tony looked up from the piece of the suit he was using his soldering iron on when he heard Betty laugh. She and Bruce were working on some of her research at the other end of the lab - Bruce’s specifically designed space wasn’t ready just yet - and he smiled. Though, if anyone asked, he wouldn’t admit to it. 

“What?” Bruce asked, glancing up, and Tony shrugged his shoulders.

“Just wondering what sort of biomedical - biophysical? - breakthrough that the two of you are up to over there, that’s all...” Tony said. 

“Oh, I’m just looking at the variation in mitochondrial metabolic rates as influenced by an influx of...” Betty trailed off, and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s really boring, even for me, but I’m working with a colleague on this paper so I can get a publication under my belt after my sabbatical...” 

“This is why I’m glad I never went into academia,” Tony said, and he sat his soldering iron. “Aren’t you glad to be out of the Ivory Tower and into the Stark Tower, Bruce?” 

“The teaching load is much better,” Bruce said, pulling his glasses off of his face and wiping them on his shirt. He could tell Tony was annoyed, Tony thought, he had been here for a few weeks and he had picked up on Tony’s tells.

“Soo...” Tony said, “Pepper is back in town after her meetings in London, which I’m sure were terribly exciting for her - she does like the English - and she thought maybe we could all go out for some sort of ridiculously expensive meal tonight.” He shifted on his feet.

Betty and Bruce glanced at one another - and what was going on with those two, exactly? Bruce had only ever mumbled something about taking it slow, and what, exactly, did that mean? Tony wasn’t even sure what it meant for normal people, let alone people who were separated because their dick head of a father fucked around with them, facilitated one of them becoming the Hulk, and then attempted to use him as a military weapon leading to a year running away from him. 

But they seemed good together - they seemed comfortable together, Tony amended, and that seemed to be really important. Or, maybe it wasn’t and this was just something that Tony had casually read in one of the lady magazines Pepper left lying around. Tony had decided it was a way for her to mark off their penthouse as being her territory as well. 

“That sounds really nice,” Betty said. “I don’t think I brought anything-” 

“Oh, no, even in places like that in New York people rarely dress up,” Tony said. “Unless they’re coming from some kind of suit job, like lawyers.” Betty nodded, a little relieved, and Tony glanced over at the suit and then back at Bruce and Betty, the other couple that he was going on a date with tonight. 

They could, conceivably, become his and Pepper’s couple. And they were going out together to talk about things over food and alcohol and he was just like those suit people, because this was the type of thing they did. He had watched them so many times before, the couples laughing, the women rolling their eyes at the men... here he was, Tony Stark, only slightly over forty, and he was suddenly doing something so incredibly mundane-

“Are you OK?” Bruce asked, and Tony startled to find him close to Tony, hovering and rocking back and forth on his heels like he had on the Helicarrier when he first met Tony.

“I’m good, I’m...just reflecting on what a reasonable adult I am, all of the sudden,” Tony said. 

Bruce raised his eyebrows and let a grin slowly move across his face while Betty looked at both of them and gave them an awkward smile.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” Tony said, realizing that they were probably going to want to run their own ideas past one another on that account. “What do you guys want?” 

* * * *

“Pepper.” Tony had laid down on the bed, splayed himself out, and was considering not getting up - they could all get takeout and have a picnic. The bed was big enough. “Pepper.”

Pepper was pulling a pair of leather riding boots over her skinny jeans - she had turned up in one of her suits, and Tony had remembered how Betty was concerned about how she was dressed, and Pepper seemed to think it was really sweet of him to note that. “You’re not getting out of it.” 

“But Pepper, the bed is so-”

“Are you having an existential crisis because we’re going out with another couple for dinner?” Pepper paused. “They are a couple, right?”

“Sure, I mean, he visited her, she visited him, I don’t know if they’ve been conjugal visitations, but-”

“Tony.”

“They’re taking things slow,” Tony said. “It’s like one of those old movies you make me watch.” Pepper shook her head and pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.

“So you’re having an existential crisis-”

“I suppose you could call it that,” Tony said, and he sat up so that he could smile at her. “It’s just - this...Avengers Initiative, this should not be what has normalized my life.” 

Pepper smiled at him and came closer so she could put her hands on his shoulder and kiss his forehead. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, and it felt good after everything they’d gone through - after the Battle, there was nothing he wanted more than to just hold onto her and instead he had to deal with an influx of past acquaintances, managing the other super heroes with nowhere else to go in the immediate aftermath, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal _at all_ that he had just flung himself into the void of space with an armed nuclear weapon.

He didn’t need to touch Pepper at the time to know how stressed she was. Tony felt bad because it had taken him a while to figure out what it was causing it, besides all of the obvious things. For so long, it had been him and Pepper and Rhodey and even Happy, and he understood why she might be a little protective of him after...but she had quickly warmed to Bruce. It was hard not to warm to Bruce. He was like a shaggy, underfed puppy that was incredibly eager to please.

 

“After everything, Tony, that might not be a bad thing. And besides, only you could qualify normal as being involved in some sort of superhero team who may or may not all be moving into your Tower.” 

“Steve and Thor were the easy ones - you should have seen his apartment, Pepper, it was sad. They’ve got all these old fashioned furnishings for him, but a modern phone, a microwave-” Tony shook his head. “The other two, they’re elusive.”

“They’re assassins and spies,” Pepper said. Tony shrugged his shoulders and stood up.

“They still need somewhere to sleep...you think if I put an archery range in..?” Tony headed over towards the tablet he kept on the bedside table - he had wanted a computer array, for when inspiration like this struck, but Pepper had vetoed that and only reluctantly agreed to the tablet compromise. “We’ve got that one subbasement that-”

“Tony. You wrinkled your shirt when you were flailing around on the bed.” Pepper’s hands were on his shoulders again, guiding him away from the tablet. Tony huffed.

“I’m trying to match Bruce,” Tony said. “We’re going to make rumpled chic a thing. Also - I wasn’t flailing.”

“Whatever you say.”

* * 

It was a little awkward as they waited for their table, and Tony noted that Betty kept fiddling with the sleeves of her button down and frowning as she glanced over at Pepper - which Tony didn’t understand, since Pepper was relating amusing anecdotes and had gently touched Betty on the lower arm. Which, Tony knew from research on body language, was a gesture made to make her feel more comfortable. Was Pepper intimidating?

By the time they sat down, though, the cocktails had finally made it into their blood stream and the first bottle of wine only served to lubricate things further. One of Pepper’s super powers was always knowing the perfect restaurant or bar for every occasion and always managing to find the best wine on the wine list. “I don’t know why, I’ve been off red wine for a while unless I’m eating red meat.”

“I like it chilled in the summer,” Betty said, smiling.

“I forgot to ask,” Tony said, “last weekend, you took the kids to the Natural History museum? How’d that go?”

“It was really nice,” Betty said. “I was surprised to be reminded how much paleontology has advanced since the nineteen forties - just seventy years ago our conception of dinosaurs was completely different...” she shook her head.

“Thor quite liked the ocean exhibit,” Bruce added.

“We should take them somewhere,” Pepper said. “I haven’t been on a field trip since high school - they were always terrible, though, I don’t know why I’m nostalgic for them.” 

“Steve really liked - likes, I guess - dinosaurs,” Bruce said. “So Thor bought him a stuffed one.”

“This is the point where everyone goes, _awww_ ,” Tony said. “Oh, don’t make me the only one.” 

“They are really cute together,” Betty added. “I felt bad, I walked in and they were cuddling on the couch after the trip and-”

Tony nearly choked on his wine and actually had to spit some out into his napkin, making this the first time he had ever done a literal spit take - though it was appropriate, if Betty meant that they had actually been cuddling and it wasn’t just some overly touchy Thor thing. “Cuddling?”

“On the couch, watching _Friends_ ,” Betty said. “Thor had an arm around Steve. But maybe he’s just...affectionate-”

“But Steve let him do that,” Tony said.

“He sort of had his head on Thor’s shoulder...” Betty said, and glanced at Pepper, who seemed to be appreciating the update. Tony made a mental note to pursue this with her, later.

“It could be something,” Pepper said. “Or maybe they’re just...starting something...”

“Something?” Tony said. “Something together, you mean?” 

“Sure,” Pepper said. “Haven’t you caught Thor looking at Steve-” she blushed, slightly, probably deciding she had revealed too much about how she shipped the two of them. Tony glanced at Betty and Bruce.

“I’m not really around,” Betty said. Bruce peered at Tony, then took his glasses off and shrugged.

“So there is something there. The two of them? Together?” Tony asked.

Bruce shrugged his shoulders and turned slightly red, which meant that he had suspected as much. Pepper rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why you’re so-”

“How, exactly, has Thor managed to be relatively discrete?” Tony asked, and he was waving his arms around slightly. “And...really, Pepper? Captain America and the Norse God of Thunder are cuddling on my couch, and you’ve seen Thor checking Cap out and _didn’t tell me_ and I’m supposed to just take it as something that - Captain America, Pepper, Steve, you’ve met Steve, right? He likes men?”

“People were gay and bisexual in the nineteen forties,” Bruce said.

“I think they even had sex,” Betty added. “Didn’t World War II mark the beginning of the end for baby delivery storks, after the failed Allied attempts to get them to deliver encrypted messages in the little blue and pink blankets?”

Tony blinked once, twice, and then looked between Bruce - who was grinning and trying to use his wine glass to hide his expression - and Betty, whose face was perfectly cold and matter-of-fact. “Well, Dr. Ross,” he said. “I do believe you’re right.”

Pepper rolled her eyes again. “Besides,” she said, “even if...I don’t think it’s that exceptional, to go gay for Thor.” She looked at Bruce, who nodded.

Tony leaned back in his chair and smiled - these were his friends and his girlfriend, he thought, his new science lab partner and his maybe girlfriend. They were having dinner and drinking wine and talking about going gay for an alien Viking and everything was good.

Of course, that was the moment when his phone began to vibrate. “I thought you said you were turning that off...” Pepper began, a crease forming in her brow.

“This is the SHIELD one,” Tony said, and Bruce groaned, then patted down his own pocket with a slight frown. “Oh. Well.”

“What is it?” Betty asked.

Tony shook his head, and was surprised that he felt a lump gathering in his throat - he hadn’t known her, not really, mostly, for him, she was the woman who let him build a fort in her office from old boxes. “Peggy Carter passed away,” he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Pepper**

Pepper did what Pepper did best, which was plan everything - this time coordinating with an irritated SHIELD agent who didn’t understand why they had ended up being the Avengers personal assistant. When the agent complained to Coulson, he had smiled at her. “Don’t worry - I’ve heard we’ll have someone more enthusiastic in place soon.” 

As she went over what she packed in the living room of the penthouse - for both herself and Tony, who did what Tony did best and sequestered himself in the lab so that he didn’t have to expose his feelings to others or come in contact with their feelings - she startled at the a knock on her door.

“Tony, don’t worry, I remembered to pack the-”

“It’s Captain Rogers, Miss Potts,” was the reply. 

“Oh, come in,” she said, and instinctively pressed her hands onto her wrinkled skirt. She wasn’t sure why Steve inspired that reaction in her. It was possibly his perfect posture, or the way that his hair was always parted exactly so. “And honestly, you can call me Pepper,” she said. Now was not the time for a very special episode about the difference between _miss_ and _ms._

“Alright,” Steve replied, and he stood a few feet into the penthouse and looked around. “You can hardly tell that there were extensive repairs.” His eyes drifted over to the glass over the Loki hole - Pepper had tried really hard to convince Tony that it was in bad taste, but there was nothing that could be done when he was determined about something.

“You can sit down,” she said, and almost added _Steve_ but then remembered he hadn’t told her that she could call him that. Maybe it was how all the boys she went to school with still read Captain America comics, how one of them was guaranteed to dress up as him for Halloween. Or how she was the one to escort him to meet Peggy for the first time since his accident, the one who had made the arrangements for the car to take the two of them over to SHIELD for her flight back to Florida.

Steve sat on the couch and she looked over at her suitcases and then looked down at the floor. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked, and was the fact that he was here indicative of them having formed some sort of friendship when she wasn’t paying attention? Or was it just that, out of all of the options, she was the best?

“I’m fine, thank you,” he said. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Steve,” she said, and then added, “Captain-”

“Steve is fine,” he said, and gave her a slight smile.

“It’s not interrupting. If you want to...if you just want to sit there, that’s fine, or we can talk.” 

“OK,” he said, and he looked down at his hands for a moment. “When I first woke up, they gave me a copy of everyone’s file...and everyone was dead, except Peggy, and her phone number was right there. I don’t know how long I stared at the number, and this phone they gave me - and, it was funny, everything else in the apartment was like when I...I guess you call it vintage, but the phone was brand new. I didn’t call her.”

Pepper nodded - she wasn’t unfamiliar with this role, thankfully, she had been the one in her sorority that the other girls came to when they needed actual advice, rather than just wanting to find a way to brag in a socially acceptable way.

“And then she was here...I could have spent a month, two months with her, more than...” Pepper waited. “I don’t know. This shouldn’t be about me.” Pepper closed her eyes for a moment, understanding why he and Tony had pecked at each other like hungry chickens when they first met.

“It’s always difficult, to lose someone,” she said, and hoped she wasn’t offering empty platitudes. “But while it might not be about you, your response is...valid and important and you shouldn’t worry about what other people will think. We’re self-centered by nature.”

Steve blinked, and Pepper thought, _there is, of course, always an exception to the rule._ Or maybe things were just different when he had grown up.

“I don’t like to talk about...personal things, with my team, but...I’ve been on a few dates.”

Pepper did her best to give him a solemn nod, instead of breaking out into a grin. All of the men seemed to think Thor was being unusually discreet, but all of the women in the past month had noticed he had a particular affection for their leader. _I think we might have picked up on it because we spend so much time checking them out,_ Darcy said, one evening, and Betty had looked a little appalled and Pepper laughed, because it was spot on. She had been even happier to hear something came of it - both of them were so alone, and she had really felt for Thor after Jane had gone back to Norway. Pepper understood, of course, and had told Jane as much - but then again, she had made the opposite decision. But she had a lot more time invested.

“Peggy encouraged me to approach...him.” The last word was a little choked, and so Pepper gave him an encouraging smile. “But, when we talked about it, she reminded me about how - only a few months ago, for me - that I had no clue she liked me, either, and...” 

“Steve,” Pepper said, and then stopped, because really, what do you do with this? “I wish I had something to say, but it’s not a common situation.”

“I suppose not,” Steve said.

“When my grandmother was ill, and knew she was going to pass, she told us that we weren’t allowed to be upset. We were supposed to celebrate her,” Pepper said, and then quickly backpedaled. “And I understand why that makes you...upset, and all I can say is, that it’s time to look backwards and forwards?” She raised her eyebrows at the end, hoping that this worked.

To her relief, Steve nodded. She didn’t want to be the person to break Captain America. “That makes sense,” he said, and she could tell from the way he was tapping one of his legs and fiddling with his fingers there was something more.

“Are you...have you told anyone else, about...I don’t want to just-”

“No,” Steve said, and blushed. “But I suppose, living together, there’s no way...I mean, Clint and Natasha probably figured it out, and it’s nice they’re discreet, but I’m sure...”

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah,” he said, meeting her eyes, and they were a little wet. Pepper was able to relax, because here it was, the part that she was missing. “Peggy was really...encouraging.”

Pepper leaned across the distance between them and put a hand on his solid knee, taking a moment to admire the muscular thighs visible in the pants he was wearing - one of his old man pairs of pants that Tony kept trying to hide on him. “I’m so glad,” she said. “And she would be too.”

“Thanks, Miss - Pepper,” Steve said, and she took her hand away. “I guess I should go pack, as well, since we’re leaving in a few hours.”

“Let me know if you need help,” Pepper said, shifting back to her professional, organized tone. Steve nodded.

* * * * *

**Steve**

“Steven,” Thor said, when he got back to his room. “I hope this is not intrusive.” Steve hadn’t seen Thor since he got the news last night - everyone had been giving him a pretty wide birth, except Coulson, but he had come only to relay the information about their transportation down to the funeral.

“No, not at all,” Steve said. “I still have to pack, though.”

“Yes,” Thor said, dropping down onto the large couch Tony had outfitted the apartment with - when Natasha had come to sit in it, the first week Steve had moved in, she had nearly sunk into it and the depth was such that she couldn’t properly bend her legs. For Thor, it looked like he was sitting on just another couch. “Darcy was most helpful in assisting me to choose amongst the items Tony Stark has provided such that I might blend better into Midgard.” Thor was currently wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt he favored when they were lounging around the Tower.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Tell me about it.” 

“I am not skilled with speech and expressing sentiment in the best of time,” Thor said, looking down. “I endeavor to not say anything unsuitable. I know what it is like to grieve and to hear something disingenuous.”

Steve frowned, and then sat down on the couch next to Thor. He waited for a moment and then realized that it was his move to make, per their agreement, and he settled his head on Thor’s shoulder. Steve shuddered when Thor began to work his fingers through his hair - and it was a startlingly intimate gesture, but Steve soon sunk into it.

* *

“I’m so sorry, Juli - Agent Hough,” Steve said, when he saw Juliana amongst the group of SHIELD personnel who had sat together during the service. He would have liked to offer her more personnel condolences, but she had flown down ahead of their contingent to be with her family.

“Thank you,” Juliana said, and she was wearing the standard issue SHIELD dark suit, still with a tie, but with a dark skirt and pumps. She gave him a smile, and then unexpectedly pulled him in for a hug. “Sorry,” she said, glancing around when she was done.

“For what?” Steve asked. Juliana shook her head, and he glanced to the side and saw Darcy give him a grin that could only be called lascivious. “Agent Lewis,” he said, noting that Darcy’s tie had a barely perceptible all-black striped pattern on it. 

“They can’t help it,” Tony said, appearing next to him. “Women like a man in uniform.”

“It’s...” Steve furrowed his brow - what else was he supposed to wear. His understanding was that he was still entitled to wear the dress uniform as an active member of the U.S. Army on loan to SHIELD. He shook his head and watched as Tony headed towards an older couple, presumably someone that he knew through Howard.

“Captain?” Juliana said, and he turned back towards her. “Would you...would you want to meet my mother? And aunt?”

Steve nodded - he had prepared himself for this inevitability, but he wasn’t confident this was something he could do unscathed. 

“Mum?” Juliana said, and a woman turned and looked at Juliana, then at Steve, and she gulped heavily. 

She didn’t look like much like Peggy, which was relieving, though Steve saw some familiarity in their eyes. Next to her was a woman who was shorter, a little heavier, but who looked more like Peggy. “Mum, Aunt Lottie - this is Captain Rogers. Do either of you want a drink?” Juliana’s mother waved her hand at her in a gesture that Steve assumed was some sort of assent. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Steve said, rocking on his feet slightly. “And ma’am.”

“Rose, please,” she said. “And Lottie.” The other woman nodded, though she was giving Steve an appraising look that he wasn’t certain was friendly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“You must be very proud of your daughter,” Steve said, because this was what he had practiced saying. 

“I suppose,” Rosalyn replied, “though we’ve still not been exactly told what it is she’s doing, besides the fact that we should be proud of her.”

“The organization your mother-”

“We know that,” said Charlotte. “Some secret spy organization that she worked for her entire life, though we never knew about it until now.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said, and he widened his eyes - Tony had told him that it generated a look that was near irresistible, but it wasn’t Steve’s intention. He just wanted to communicate that he was being earnest. “I’m really, truly-”

He was surprised when Rosalyn hugged him, a light gesture that felt odd given how short she was. She could have rested her head on his chest. She pulled back and seemed embarrassed. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “I just wish - I wish she would have told us. We might have understood her, then.” 

Steve winced, and then nodded slightly as he faced the two sisters and was pleased when Tony turned up. Steve knew there may be a few more instances where he was happier to see the man turn up, but not many. “And you must be Peggy’s girls,” Tony said. “Rosie and Lottie, right? I don’t know if you remember me, but I-”

“Took the heads off our Barbies and glued them to the walls,” Charlotte said.

“Well, to be fair, I wanted to see if there was anything interesting inside...” Tony said, and he grinned at both women and draped his arms around their shoulders, only giving a quick look back at Steve before he started walking off with them. “Which I have to apologize for, and I’d even like to offer reparations-”

“Oh, well,” Juliana said, coming towards him with two glasses of wine in her hand. “That’s unfortunate. I suppose I’ll have to drink both of these myself.” Steve raised his eyebrows as she took one glass down in a single, almost elegant swig, and put the glass on a table where used tableware was being collected. “Apparently,” she said, “I get that from my grandmother.”

* * * * *

**Darcy**

“Soo...” Darcy said, not entirely sure how she had wound up standing next to Natasha Romanov and a little uncertain about whether she would survive the interaction. “This is...” 

“Former Assistant Director Carter is a role model for many women in SHIELD,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. Natasha looked uncomfortable in the black shift dress and moderate pumps she was wearing. Darcy had only ever seen her in clothing that was purely utilitarian - spy catsuit, workout gear, slinky dress for seduction, comfortable leggings and a sweater hoodie for when she was lounging around the tower. “She would be for more women, had she not worked for a secret organization.” 

“Did you work under her?” Darcy asked.

“No,” Natasha said. “Regrettably. But she was responsible for a good deal of Coulson’s training, once he advanced past a certain clearance level. Fury also spoke of her.” Natasha’s lip flinched slightly in a gesture that Darcy took to mean that she was smiling.

“Tony just saved Steve,” she said. “He was talking to her daughters.”

“Ooh,” Darcy said, and caught sight of Tony as he led two older women towards the buffet. “She must have had her children later in life.” 

“But earlier than Howard,” Natasha said. “Would you like a drink, Agent Lewis?” 

Darcy still hadn’t quite got used to being addressed that way, but she was going to need to. One, because it was important that she realize that, as a political science major who had studied under a radical feminist post-Marxist - Paulina had been the one to encourage her to intern for Jane Foster - she was now part of the shadow government. Second, because she was serious business now and needed to act like it. Especially if she was going to be assistant to Agent Phillip Coulson, the most unflappable person in  
recent history. 

“Yes, please, thank you, Agent Romanov,” she said, and Natasha sort of rolled her eyes and walked towards the bar and Thor, who was obvious from even the distance they were at. Darcy had never been a to a funeral with a bar, but this one was being hosted in a club in D.C. that Peggy’s one son in law apparently belonged to. The mix of rich people, government people, secret government agents, and superheroes had made for interesting juxtaposition. At least Tony was able to explain his presence as an old family friend.

“Easy target,” Darcy heard Natasha mutter as they moved in the direction of Thor.

“Hey, Big Guy,” Darcy said, sliding up next to Thor in relief - after you got past the exposition, what did you talk about with Natasha? _So, did you have an easy time sharpening your knives this morning?_

“Darcy,” Thor said. “Or, should I say, Agent Lewis? And Lady Natasha.” 

“Yeah, if you want,” Darcy said. “But we knew each other before that, so.” Thor issued a low, barely perceptible laugh - perfectly socially aware for the gathering they were at. She had begun to realize that, after returning from Norway, a lot of what she thought about Thor had come from a time when he was upset, confused, and probably suffering from the after-effects of drugs he had never come in contact with before that they had been injected into his ass. 

“Two red wines,” Natasha sad, glancing up at Thor and nodding. He had numerous empty bottles of beer next to him but was now holding a glass filled with what appeared to be liquor. 

“Tony Stark advised that this amber liquid has a higher alcohol content,” Thor said.

“It does,” Natasha replied.

“Would you care to explain to me the significance of the cemetery where Ms. Carter-Hough was laid to rest?” Thor asked. Natasha arched an eyebrow at Darcy - apparently, at least according to Coulson, one of her duties as his assistant would be to answer any and all questions that Steve and Thor had in a serious and completely factual manner. 

“Arlington National Cemetery is for military heroes,” Darcy said. “Brave warriors. She was actually buried near to the other Howling Commandos.” There was a whole memorial for them which had, until last month when he appeared on national television, included a sculpture and memorial plaque for Steve. Thor nodded, but still had his lips pressed together. “Captain Rogers’ unit in World War II.” 

“Ah,” Thor said. “That explains many things.” He nodded at Darcy when the bartender swooped by and poured more whiskey in his glass, then he walked away. 

Natasha handed Darcy her glass. “See? That wasn’t hard, was it?”

“Yeah, but...” Darcy stopped, wondering how much Natasha knew, and then mentally kicked herself because, _hello! Natasha!_ If Darcy had figured out what was going on, Natasha had known about the first time that Thor had even thought about...romancing? Steve. “I mean, am I going to have answer sex questions?” 

Darcy had never seen Natasha smile before, and it was interesting to see how it changed her face - instead of looking dangerous and a little pissed off, possibly constipated, she looked her age. “Did Coulson say all their questions?” 

“All questions relevant to their adjustment,” Darcy replied.

Natasha shrugged. “I would argue that the sex questions are above your pay grade, and refer to Stark.” She paused, for a moment. “Thor walked with Steve, through the memorial.” Darcy took a long sip of her wine - Clint was totally going to owe her twenty dollars. He had insisted that the whole thing was rebound sex on both their parts. 

“That’s nice,” Darcy said, and she startled when an intoxicated Juliana bumped into her from behind. “Hey, roommate.”

“Save me from my family,” she said, putting her head on Darcy’s shoulder and smiling at Natasha so that it wasn’t clear who she was referring to. “I think they might be trying to make Steve cry.” 

* * * * *

**Clint**

Clint had been happy to be assigned to reconnaissance during the funeral - Fury had wanted to avoid a scene, since quite a few SHIELD employees were at the wake and then at Arlington. Once they reached the private club, though, he was off the clock, and decided it would be best to stick to the only other people who were about as unaffected by everything as he was. Bruce and Betty were good company, even if it was clear that they were lying to everyone about the whole taking it slow thing and had, in fact, recently slept together. Not that Clint was judging - if he had to go that long without sex, like Bruce had, he would have been eager as well. 

“I don’t think I realized how incestuous all of this was until today,” Bruce said, nodding at Tony and Coulson talking to some rich and important looking men over by a table of appetizers.

“Peggy trained Phil,” Clint said, leaning back. He hadn’t known about it until she had shown up at the tower - it was a bit of a relief, because he had always assumed Phil’s Captain America fanboying came from a slightly twisted adolescent crush rather than from genuine stories of his heroics and good heart. “And she used to babysit Tony at SHIELD when Howard was doing...more important things.” 

“If I live to be ninety-seven,” Betty said, “it had better be like that.” Clint watched as something dark flitted across Bruce’s face - that answered one question, then. He hadn’t told her about his make out session with that pistol. “I think I’d like to be badass.” 

“It’s included in our employee benefits package,” Clint said. Betty smiled at him, then stood. 

“Drinks?” 

“Yes, please,” Clint said. He had done a very good job of moderating his alcohol intake over the past month or so - a few beach drinks spread over each day with Natasha, if at all - but he felt like he was past that dangerous place where things started to claw at him when he closed his eyes, and he needed to get drunk. Everyone else seemed to be, at least. 

The only problem was that this left him alone with Bruce, the person that he had probably spoken to the least since he returned from his vacation. He smiled at him. “You like your lab?” 

“Yes,” Bruce said, and it was clear that Clint wasn’t the only one who was going to be awkward. A slight relief - no pressure. “Tony’s almost done with the archery range, I heard.” 

“It will be nice to not have to pack off across Midtown to practice,” Clint said, not adding, _where everyone hates me._

Coulson must have sensed his discomfort - he was like a Jedi, sometimes, if that was one of the Jedi’s abilities - and rolled over. Clint had realized, as Coulson had boarded the plane ahead of all of them to get himself seated and buckled in with Fury’s assistance, that Coulson probably wasn’t going to get out of the chair. Maybe it would be good to have a daily reminder, though - rather than a dead reminder. 

“Schmoozing, sir?” Clint asked, and couldn’t help but notice that Bruce seemed uncomfortable around him - and for the first time, it occurred to him that it was possible Bruce felt guilt as well. Coulson had gone after Loki alone because the Hulk had been wreaking havoc on the Helicarrier. 

“Well...I suppose that’s the word for it,” Coulson said, and nodded at Bruce. He was a little high and a little drunk, Clint realized. Which only meant one thing - feelings. “Everyone seems to have known a different A.D. Carter-Hough,” he murmured, voice soft. 

“We are always evolving,” Bruce said, looking down at his hands and grinning slightly in a way that was painfully self-aware. “Or some other sentiment, if that doesn’t work for you.” 

“I think it was appropriate,” Coulson said, and their attention was called to the microphone that was at on a small stage against one of the walls that Clint had been praying no one was going to use. Usually he was a lot more desensitized to funerals - he was certain that part of what made him feel so raw was the sense that this really could have, been Phil’s.

The fact that it was the two daughters made him hope that Betty returned soon with the drinks. “On behalf of my sister and I,” the older, Rosalyn, said, “I would like to thank everyone for coming here to celebrate my mother - whatever incarnation of her it was that you knew, that is.” She gave a rueful smile and when Clint followed her sight line he saw the back of Steve’s head. “To Peggy,” Rosalyn said, and Clint raised a water glass at the table and clinked it with Coulson’s wine glass and Bruce’s beer. 

“Poor Steve,” Bruce said. “He really doesn’t need to feel responsible for all that, too.” 

“He’ll be alright,” Clint said, glad to see that Juliana had loped her arm through his and was pulling him out towards the garden. As they had packed for the funeral, her description of her mother and aunt had been fairly ruthless - _they both want to blame all of their problems on my grandmother and how she wasn’t like all of the other mums in the neighborhood, rather than admit that they might have some character flaws responsible for it,_ she said. _And to think, they spent so much money on therapy when they just needed to have their own kids!_

Clint had glanced over at Natasha, who had a hungry look on her face. Rather than chew her up and spit her out, as she did with many of her conquests, Natasha was more likely going to bat her around like a toy for a while until she grew disinterested or decided she wanted to keep her around. 

“She’s a smart girl,” Coulson said, as Betty returned. “But not very practical.” 

“Which is why you picked Agent Lewis?” Clint asked.

Coulson gave him one of those stern looks that Clint certainly hadn’t expected in this context. “Agent Lewis is a good deal more observant than people give her credit for,” Coulson said. “I’m starting to suspect she does it on purpose.” 

* * * * *

**Betty**

Betty was relieved when they returned to the Tower and settled back into their normal patterns, as normal as domesticity could be amongst six superheroes and super spies and their significant others. She had thought that, after the funeral, her last two days at the tower might be marred by some changed dynamics and out-pouring of emotion, but everyone seemed to have made it through relatively unscathed besides Steve, though even he seemed to be doing well for having lost his last connection to his old life.

He was probably the reason that Tony had suggested that they have a movie night which was actually more of a movie day where each Avenger familiar with recent popular culture was charged with picking their favorite appropriate comedy for consumption. Bruce had gone first, and after Tony and Pepper had vetoed his suggestion - Betty could only imagine - they had watched _Monty Python and the Holy Grail,_ much to Thor and Steve’s amusement.

“I had several adventures on Midgard during this medieval era,” Thor said, arm casually draped around Steve and expression daring anyone, especially Tony, to comment on it. “It was somewhat like this, though many had actual horses. In fact, I do not believe they had coconuts.”

“That’s why it’s funny,” Bruce said, very slowly, and Thor laughed and grinned at him. 

Since Tony had decided he would finish off the evening, Clint and Natasha had flipped for the next position. Natasha picked _Young Frankenstein,_ also without incident, and then everyone had broken to go and get food for the third feature of the evening.

Betty stopped in the doorway to the movie room, enormous bowl of fun size candy bars in her hands. Thor and Steve both had pizza in their hands, Bruce and Tony were attempting to build a trebuchet while Agent Coulson critiqued their choice of materials - apparently, he had been an engineering major at West Point, Clint had his legs in Natasha’s lap while she sat next to Juliana, and Darcy was sprawled on the floor as Clint tried to through popcorn into her mouth.

“It’s a bit startling how sweet it is, isn’t it?” Pepper asked from behind her, where she had several bags of potato chips in her arms. 

“It is,” Betty said.

“Did Tony mention a salary when he made his offer?” Pepper asked. Betty had been anticipating a follow-up, both to confirm that Tony hadn’t just been tossing ideas around and, if not, to actually iron out the details.

“No, but-”

“Double what you’re currently being paid,” Pepper said. “Plus we are obviously including free room and board in the friends and family package.” She grinned, though Betty could detect a little bit of annoyance there. Justified annoyance, really, when you go from living in your luxury penthouse in the middle of Manhattan with your billionaire boyfriend to having it serve as the center of an alien invasion and then finding a ragtag bunch of orphaned super-somethings had moved in along with their various significant others. 

“That’s very generous-”

“I know that it’s important for you, to be independent,” Pepper said. “Considering your father was responsible for getting you your current position.” 

“Mmm,” Betty said, not really wanting to think about him. “I’ll have to finish the semester - I can’t leave my students in a lurch.”

“No, of course not,” Pepper said, sliding by her to bring her offering into the room. Betty took another look around and preserved the snapshot - it wouldn’t always be like this, not with the level of ego and independent streak in each of the Avengers. But right now, it needed to be, so that was a good thing.

“What’s next, William Tell?” Tony asked.

“You’re going to run out of archers soon,” Clint replied.

“Haven’t got to the bottom of the barrel yet,” Tony added. Betty put the candy bars on a table and sat down in the oversized chair she and Bruce had chosen.

“I have chosen, for your viewing pleasure, and in the spirit of the evening...” Clint paused. “Is someone going to do a drum roll?”

“No!” several different people said, and Betty smiled.

“ _Anchorman_ ” Clint pronounced. 

“Sweeeeet,” said Darcy. “I mean, Panda Watch!” 

“No quotes, you’ll spoil it for the kids,” Tony said. “JARVIS, lights, dim? Excellent.” 

This wasn’t the sort of family she and Bruce had ever planned on, she decided, but she would take it. She almost groaned until she realized she hadn’t said it out loud and that calling attention to herself would only lead to her to have to explain herself, and that would be...embarrassing, at best, like yesterday when she had gone and sat on the other side of the new Hulk enclosure as Bruce let the Other Guy out to play.

“Betty!” he had said, and waved at her, almost shy. “No wonder puny Banner happy.”

“Knew it,” Tony had said, from the other side of the room. “Totally knew you two did it.” 

* * * * *

**Steve**

Steve was actually tired by the end of the movies, the first time in a long while that a day of just sitting around had left him feeling drained. More likely, though, it was the result of his lack of sleep from the past few days. He was hoping that he might actually sleep tonight, instead of retracing his steps at Arlington - he usually fixated on the moment when one of the Hough cousins had come up to him and said, “You know, you’re standing right where the Captain American memorial used to be, don’t you?” 

He didn’t need to be a genius to figure out why. 

Just as he had debated, the morning of the funeral, telling Thor to go and join the others while he went to go and pay real respects to his friends, he thought about telling Thor he was going to try to go to bed. But, just as he had at the cemetery, he decided against it because this wasn’t exactly something he wanted to try and do on his own.

He and Thor were on the same floor, and so they walked back together. They paused, outside of Steve’s room, and he inhaled and prepared. 

“Do you want to come in?” he asked, instead, and Thor cocked his head and then nodded. “Do you want something to drink?” Too late, he realized he didn’t have any alcohol to offer Thor - not that it really made a difference. Thor seemed to require a significantly higher proof than was offered in most Midgardian beverages to get drunk. Still, Steve said, “water?” 

“If you are also drinking,” Thor said, wandering slowly through the living room - the last time he had been here, when Steve had been packing, he had not had much time to look at things. Tony had done a much better job than SHIELD at outfitting his living space - it had been surprising, for Steve, to see that Tony had taken actual care. There were vintage Dodgers posters, neatly framed and placed above the couch, which was actually modern and quite comfortable. “I should perhaps bring some items from Asgard, so that my quarters feel more like home.”

“Oh,” Steve said, filling a second glass with water. “You’re going back..?”

“For a few days, at least,” Thor said. “My mother insisted that I visit frequently, as-”

Steve cut him off. “Of course,” he said.

“Perhaps you might like to come, some time in the future?” Thor asked, settling down into the couch. “We could properly exert ourselves on a hunt, or-”

Steve felt himself blush, slightly, at the words _properly exert,_ as if he needed more proof about what he had decided over the past week - and had confirmed, when he overheard Darcy in the kitchen with Clint. _They have to have - can you imagine, having that around you for two weeks and not being able to touch? Two weeks is glacial paced, dude!_ “Here,” he said, and handed Thor a glass of water before sitting down next to him. “I wanted to let you know, in case I haven’t - I really appreciated, the past few days-” 

“Steven, I was happy to aid you in whatever way you felt was best,” Thor said. “I regret not knowing more about your Peggy Carter.” He paused. “And, selfishly, I must admit I found the process to be slightly cathartic, myself.” 

“That’s...I’m glad,” Steve said finally, struggling a bit for words. He put his glass down and leaned forward and brushed his lips against Thor’s. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean-”

“I understood what you meant,” Thor said, brushing hair out of Steve’s face, and Steve shivered. Thor had continuously touched his hair since that first evening and it never stopped being slightly electric. “You rarely need explain yourself to me.” 

That was a small part of the attraction, Steve had to admit, and he wondered if it would be the same if each of them had grown up on this planet, during this era. It didn’t matter, though - they found comfort in each other, and given the circumstances, it was a bit remarkable. 

Steve kissed down Thor’s neck, laughing slightly as the bristle of Thor’s beard tickled against his lips. His fingers fumbled slightly as he worked the first of Thor’s buttons. Before he got to a the second, a hand was gentle as it clasped his wrist. “Steven, you do not need-”

“I want to,” Steve murmured, and he wasn’t sure exactly how far this would go - the last chance they had, the night before the funeral, he had kissed Thor furiously and bucked his hips into him and then pulled away, uncertain if he was proceeding because he wanted to or because he wanted physical contact to fill in the spaces for him. “I know what I want.” 

“Mmm?” Thor asked, and that was another good thing about Thor - Steve had witnessed each of the Avengers, in their own way, over-analyzing things. But even after spending hundreds of years growing up with a brother who would be characterized as the God of Lies by those who met him on Midgard, Thor still believed what you told him. “I cannot pretend that I am not enthused.” 

He guided the hand he was holding down to his groin and put Steve’s hand over his burgeoning erection. Steve moaned, a little unsure but definitely excited. He was glad that, in a moment of slight panic a week ago, he had confessed the entirety of his inexperience to Thor lest Tony get there first. Thor had treated it as though Steve was telling him about his preferred television programs, nodding and accepting of every detail. 

Thor’s mouth was rough against him, then, hungry and demanding, and Steve was more than happy to relent for a moment - they had spent plenty of time, alternating roles, each seeming to enjoy being the dominant and being the one on the receiving end of it. “Have you given thought to how you might wish to proceed?” Thor asked, husky as he whispered in Steve’s ear - any other way, it might have interrupted Steve as he tried to unbutton the remainder of Thor’s shirt.

“I...well, I thought-” Steve shuddered, slightly, hoping that he wouldn’t be a disappointment. The Internet seemed to indicate that, in homosexual relationships, people preferred one position over another. 

“I would be greatly interested in exploring either position, with you,” Thor said, and he ran his palm up against Steve’s erection. “And we shall, in many different permutations...” 

Later, Steve would reflect that it was probably Thor’s admitted desire to experiment and switch that had made Steve feel more comfortable indicating that he wanted Thor on top. He was also glad that he didn’t have to explain his desire to be held, to have hands hold him tight, to feel the weight of another body against him after everything that had happened the past week or so. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, after, stretching and laying his head down on Thor’s wide expanse of chest. “That...”

“It is what you hoped?” Thor asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve said, most of his thoughts still swimming following his orgasm - and for some reason, he couldn’t help but become maudlin for a moment. The answer, really, was not quite at all, or not at all, depending on what point of reference you used - before he was exposed to the serum? After the treatment in the chamber? As he crashed the airplane into the ice? 

Then he righted himself and pulled himself back into the moment - not that it should be easy, to get used to all of this, but at least easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and slogging through!


End file.
